


with words unspoken

by Makisol



Series: Delta [2]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Angst, Aphelios centric, Canon Compliant, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Selective Mute Aphelios, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:48:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24261595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makisol/pseuds/Makisol
Summary: Silence is the language of the night; some had condemned it as an evil, others had praised it like a divine gift. Teetering between those two ideals is Aphelios’ conviction for his faith. Ever since a certain pit boss strolled into his life without giving a damn, Aphelios fears everyday he’s closer to losing what is left of his resolve.Perhaps the Moon has sent him here with a different intention. If only she could be clearer with her signs, at least then, Aphelios would know what kind of guilt to feel whenallhe wants to do in the world is lay in Sett’s warm embrace.
Relationships: Aphelios/Sett (League of Legends)
Series: Delta [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935868
Comments: 52
Kudos: 200





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some of you said you wanted a sequel, some of you said you wanted a happy ending.
> 
> Buckle up, fellas. This is the result.

On the verge of being killed or being spared. Aphelios has never liked uncertainties.

The magical strings that tie him down keep him grounded, quite literally. He’s been chained to the floor by some unknown magic, unable to move his body. His knees are starting to hurt from how long they’ve been bent against the grass. The blood drips from his forehead and across his cheek; it taints his shirt and warns him of one of the many injuries on his body. 

As the sun dips beyond the mountains, the twilight hues color the sky in a light violet, signaling the imminent coming of the night. His sister is quiet on the other side of the veil as she watches from his eyes. She often does it when Aphelios is in danger, ready to summon his weapon if the need arises.

The tip of the purple feather touches his face without cutting. Aphelios takes a deep breath as it’s pulled away. The person holding it turns around and looks at her partner as they keep arguing. When Aphelios woke up today he didn’t think he’d end up between a lover’s quarrel.

“I  _ never  _ owe to humans!” she says. Her eyes are burning with rage. Her feathers are puffed out and the fingers that hold the dagger shake with the fury within her.

“To this one you do!” says the other, a bright golden vastaya. The worry is evident in every wrinkle of his face. “He saved your life!”

Aphelios takes a moment to look away from them and observe the corpses around them. Most of the noxians’ armors are pierced by the deathly feathers of said woman who means to kill him. The bodies are surrounded by pools of blood and their swords and axes lay on the battlefield alongside them. Aphelios takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe again, his nose scrunches at the thick smell of blood and death all around him. He looks back at his captors, knowing that he’d rather watch this drama than to look upon a sight so heartbreaking.

“You can’t be sure! He just happened to shoot the guy behind me.” The woman growls. “He wasn’t trying to save me!”

The man shakes his head and looks at Aphelios, as if trying to find an answer. They’re both aware that he can’t speak and now they keep arguing about the nature of his intentions. This is not the first time he’s made the wrong impression, but it  _ is  _ the first time he’s been tied up while his life dangles on a tightrope because of it.

The man walks over to him and lowers down his hand to touch his shoulder. Aphelios barely feels it, but he presses on the skin below his necklace. The man lifts it away carefully and a worried sigh leaves his lips. Aphelios feels a sting that is more uncomfortable than painful and wishes he could see what the other is looking at there.

“Looks at this, Xayah.” He uses his thumb to remove a piece of cloth aside. It’s damp as he takes it away from that spot. “He took a killing hit just to protect you, an inch above and it would’ve cut his neck.”

The tremble on Alune’s energy is strong, but she remains quiet. The woman, on the other hand, chuckles as she rubs her fingers together, a string of magic makes them glow. 

“Maybe I should finish the job.” She summons her feathers again and points them at him.

“I saw it with my own eyes,” he says, rising to his feet. He softly touches her wrist and brings her hand between them. “If not for him, do it for  _ me _ —I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, stop it!” She looks away and crosses her arms. “Humans are selfish and cruel, this one is no different.”

It’s then that Aphelios witnesses their first unvoiced conversation, as the man glares with a silent plea. She stares back and squints, pulling her mouth in a frown. After a long quiet moment she sighs dramatically, tossing her arms upwards.

“Fine, I’ll spare his life.” The man jumps with excitement. “Not a single word about this ever again, Rakan, not  _ one.” _

Aphelios breathes out a relieved sigh. Now he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he only saved her because of Alune’s guidance. Her order was clear when she told him to shoot that noxian—the one that held a long blade above that woman, meaning to cut her down in a strike—and he pulled the trigger without a doubt. Back in that moment, it was not a heroic act that spurred out of nowhere. 

Rakan and Xayah—as he came to know—were both risking their lives by themselves against a small platoon of soldiers. There wasn’t really anything for Aphelios to fight for in that conflict, he was supposed to ignore it and keep on his way. But the Moon showed Alune a vision, her whispers inside his head; his body reacting on command, even when it meant putting his own safety at risk. Once the two vastaya reunited, they finished the rest of the warriors. It was quite the spectacle, considering they obviously excelled at using their magic in battle.

Now that he remembers, right after he sniped that swordsman off Xayah’s back, another had slung a blade at him. That’s where that injury on his clavicle must come from. He cranes his neck down but the strings of magic barely lets him move. He groans when the pressure squeezes him harder.

Xayah lifts her hand again and the feathers that strap him return to her hand. It happens very slowly—he saw her doing it before with a killing speed, the soldiers would fall to the ground as they were pierced—and as she moves her fingers, it’s obvious that she’s trying not to hurt him.

When he’s free, he looks down to the wound and his eyes widen at the long cut that spreads there. It travels all the way across his left pectoral, he gets dizzy just from looking at it. He’s had worse before, but the amount of blood he’s lost has stained his clothes. One half of his necklace covers a portion of the injury and the golden pendants are dented but not broken. Had it not been for that he might’ve broken some bones, that is, if he hasn’t already.

Nothing to worry about, surely, at the very least he can just sew his clothes back together.

Rakan offers him a hand to help him stand up, but the vertigo makes his legs wobble. He tries blinking away the double vision but he just ends up crashing into Rakan’s arms.

“Uh, oh.” He hears him speak a little too close to his ears. “Honey, he’s hurt.”

Again, Aphelios doesn’t feel the pain but his body is tired, the excessive loss of blood must be the main reason. As Rakan helps him stand straight, Aphelios surpasses him in height, he has to look down to meet his bright blue eyes.

“We have to do something,” he says. Aphelios wants to speak but his hands grip Rakan’s shoulders like a lifeline. He shakes as he barely can keep himself standing. Maybe a nap will do.

“I said I was sparing his life, not that we’d help him,” she says. Aphelios agrees, they don’t have to do more for him but there’s also something inside him that  _ begs  _ that they do; Alune’s worry pulls at his mind like a magnet.

Rakan adjusts his grip and puts an arm across his back and under his arm. “If we leave him like this, it’s all the same.”

Xayah clicks her tongue. Meanwhile, Aphelios’ eyes are focused on the ground and his ragged breath doesn’t help him relax. He feels another arm snaking around his body. He sees Xayah’s clawed feet stand next to him as she puts his arm over her shoulders.

They walk alongside him as he drags his feet with the little strength he has left. As they step around the bodies laying on the grass, his eyes find the face of a warrior. There’s a hole where the moonstone bullet pierced his armor. He knows then that neither Rakan nor Xayah are assassin’s by heart, since they both miss said noxian’s chest rising up and down with a measured breath. Aphelios doesn't say anything, though, no need to spill more blood at this point. He hopes that man can make it back home.

Aphelios stops walking when they try to step over his bag. He pulls at their shoulders with the little strength he has left. Xayah groans but before she can mutter one word Rakan understands Aphelios intentions. He picks the bag with his other hand and puts it across his shoulders. From then on Aphelios has to close his eyes to keep a headache in check.

They walk deeper into the forest, he loses track of how many steps he has taken. When he breathes, the air is fresh and  _ different,  _ like the world is wrapping him in a welcoming aura. There’s dampness that keeps his face wet and he doesn’t realize it’s not sweat until a drop gets in his mouth. Yet, the calming sensation of the environment around him helps him forget about the blood and the aching. It’s clear to him that this is not ordinary forest he’s walked into.

Alune’s presence shapes inside him. Her breathing is clear against his ears, her heartbeat is synchronized with his own. The connection feels a thousand times more vivid than ever before. He hears her prayers to the Moon, pleading for his protection. Without question, the only thing he wants is to remember how her hair felt when he used to braid it. He knows for sure… it must be different from Sett’s hair, right? His thick, short strands on his fingers is a forgotten sensation. But one he’d like to relive, too.

“What is this human doing here?” says the voice of yet another stranger, stopping his thoughts altogether as his instincts of survival take over. “M’am, I’m not sure this is—”

“Shut it, Yan!” says Xayah, putting Aphelios’ arm off her as Rakan sits him down on a soft mattress. “Do you want the entire tribe to find out about it?”

His eyes don’t hurt as much as before when he tries to open them fully. What little he can scan of his surroundings doesn’t give anything away. It’s still too dark to see. All he knows is where he’s sitting and that Rakan is still standing next to him. That pain has subsided considerably, too.

“He saved Xayah’s life,” says Rakan. The snap of his fingers flick a light on, the lamp’s warm light illuminates the room and the people inside it. Rakan’s feathers glint with the light, Aphelios has to look away to prevent another headache coming just from the blinding colors. “We owe him the favor, please, you’re the only healer we can trust with this secret.”

The silhouette of a tall feathered man stands in front of Aphelios. He’s way taller than Rakan, possibly taller than himself. He would look terrifying had it not been for the fear that was clear in his face. He has more earthy colors to his appearance, the light brown of his skin blends perfectly with the darker tone of his feathers. He lacks the vibrancy of the other two but Aphelios is secretly grateful for that.

“Are you sure about this?” asks the man with a hushed tone and his voice breaks a little as he speaks. “Humans can be treacherous.”

“I’ll look into his things,” says Xayah. She takes the bag from Rakan’s shoulder. “Just in case he’s thinking of doing something funny.” She makes sure Aphelios is looking at her as she glares at him.

He hears the clasps being undone and wonders if there’s anything there that could compromise his safety. As Xayah continues rummaging through it, Rakan follows her and stands next to the table she’s placed his bag on. The wood it’s made of is curved and adorned, it spreads towards the wall until both merge together. Squinting his eyes to focus better on it, he follows the shape of the house’s interior. The branches above him are thick, the ceiling is entirely made of its twigs and leaves perfectly as if it had grown like that.

The walls are decorated with flora, and one of the bookshelves on the far wall has a neatly done bird’s nest. The lamps are crystal orbs, the way their contents move looks like they’ve condensed fire inside them, its magic spreads out and almost feels palpable.

The sudden excitement that fills Aphelios doesn’t belong to him. The powerful emotions of his sister overwhelm his senses; he takes a hand to his chest with the intention to feel his heart, but it’s replaced with the ache of the cut there. He bows his head and looks at the open wound on his chest partly hidden behind his necklace. He tries moving it out of the way but the doctor stops him by grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t touch it,” he whispers as he gives the other two a side-glance. “I’ll take care of that.”

His features show his deep concern as they travel around his body, the grimace when he sees some of the wounds are explanation enough.

Rakan sighs. “How boring,” he says, standing up to his full height and stretching his arms. “I mean that’s cool,  _ great  _ that you’re not secretly a trained undercover noxian here to steal our magic.” He says this with a tint of disappointment, wasn’t he the one insisting on helping him before?

He flops his body on a hammock and the weight of it makes the ceiling’s branches rattle.

“Wait a second, where are his guns?” asks Xayah, as she digs deeper inside his bag. She tosses his belongings around the place. Rakan stands immediately from his slouched position and takes a long look at Aphelios’ body, as if he was trying to find the weapons tied to his body.

The doctor steps away from him. “Oh, dear Spirits, I knew this was a bad idea.” He hides behind the other two, despite being two heads taller than them.

“Explain yourself, human.” Her demand is accompanied with a pointy feather barely touching the tip on his nose. “Or this is the end of your little charade.”

Aphelios lets out a sigh. Of course things were gonna turn this way. However, Alune’s calming atmosphere takes the concern away. He has barely signed one word when he feels the white flimsy image of his sister appear next to him. Her appearance is so clear, Aphelios goes as speechless and astonished as everyone else in the room.

_ “I’ll provide the answers you seek,”  _ she says. Her voice is a gentle brush against his ears. Never as clear, not even when he heard her inside his head.

Both men hide behind Xayah’s body. She has a scowl deep in her forehead and her hand doesn’t quiver in Alune’s presence.

“Look, babe, a projection.” Rakan’s whisper isn’t concealed by his tone at all, his eyes glued to Alune’s face.

“Don’t fall for it.” She holds her feathered dagger with a steady grip, it reminds Aphelios of his own firm posture in the face of danger. “It’s just another human possessing magic and he won’t fool us with his party tricks.”

Alune raises her hand and materializes Severum right on Aphelios’ hands. He holds it as it becomes tangible in the world of the living. Xayah’s feathers puff out mildly and Yan cowers behind them. On the other hand, Rakan’s eyes gleam with interest. He smiles as he whispers next to Xayah’s ear again, with the subtlety of a child.

“Moonsilver,” he says. “It’s a moonsilver weapon.”

This makes Xayah’s assertiveness falter. She gives Rakan a glance, before she eyes the twins with a skeptical expression. 

_ “We don’t want to fight,”  _ says Alune, her tone even and respectful.  _ “If you are helping my brother, we will be forever grateful—if not, then we’ll take our leave.” _

“You’re not an illusion.” Xayah scoffs, bringing her feathers down. “He can’t fight, do not threaten us in our own home.”

_ “While the Moon is present in the sky, the night will always be  _ our  _ home.”  _ Alune smiles.  _ “Do watch your words in the presence of her children.” _

Aphelios coughs unintentionally, breaking the thick tension between them. The doctor raises his head at this, looking at him with worry. Xayah puts a hand against his chest when he tries taking a step towards them, he stops willingly on that spot, but his concern is still there. Rakan’s sudden rush forward takes them by surprise, though, and Xayah flings her hand to catch him without succeeding. She calls him over with a hushed yell but he ignores it without hesitating.

“You’re a spirit.” He holds out his hand, offering it for Alune to take. His declaration leaves the other two with their mouths hanging open.

Reluctance is obvious on Alune’s face at first, slowly reaching to his hand with a confused expression. She gasps when their hands meet and Rakan gives her a soft squeeze. Her eyes are just as surprised as Xayah’s, who has rushed to their side to watch their encounter with marvelled amazement.

Severum falls from Aphelios’ hands, turning into clear blue mist before touching the ground. He acts without thinking, lunging for his sister’s hand. He shouldn’t be surprised when his fingers go through and her ghost’s fog scatters around. There’s  _ something, _ a pain over his heart as Alune reaches out as well, but their hands never meet. He can’t tell what feeling it is.

“Humans can’t touch spirits, silly,” says Rakan with a playful smile. Judging from the shocked glare Xayah shoots at him, Aphelios knows that Rakan’s obliviousness is legit. “Though aren’t you her vessel? Didn’t know you could retain your human body, I wonder if you’re hollow, too.”

He lets go of Alune’s hand and knocks on Aphelios’ head with his knuckles. If looks could kill, Alune’s would’ve obliterated Rakan from existence. Xayah clears her throat while a blush covers her cheeks.

“Don’t be rude!” Xayah grabs his hand and pulls it away from Aphelios. She looks up to Alune and smiles. “I’m sorry if we disrespected you.”

Alune’s shakes her head, opening her mouth to speak but the words don’t leave her mouth. Instead, she puts the hand they touched close to her chest.

“So you’re not human,” says the doctor, approaching Aphelios with a slow stride. “What a relief.”

“Yes,” says Xayah with a smile. “Explains why you didn’t act like one.”

When she looks at Aphelios, her features are completely different. Her eyes are gentle and her smile is small but genuine.

“We’ll put your things back where they were.” Xayah takes Rakan along with her. The empty spot where they stood leave enough space for the doctor to sit and tend Aphelios’ wounds once and for all.

His hands are gentle and measured. He’s clearly familiar with the motions, especially as he removes the damaged necklace and cuts the rest of his shirt off. His chest is bare to the fresh air inside the room, it’s a little warm despite the cold weather of the current season. He looks at his ruined shirt knowing that it’s beyond repair. Thankfully, his coat only has a few gaps and cuts and that’s good, because that one isn’t as easy to replace as the rest of his garments.

The towel the doctor’s using to clean the blood off him is almost completely red. He washes after cleaning a new spot, the water already turning pink. Aphelios can’t feel the sting of the medication but he can feel the pulse of his magic. When his fingers touch his skin, his hands glow with a light hue of greens and yellows. It doesn’t feel bad, but it’s not a good sensation either.

Xayan and Rakan are having an amiable conversation as they’re picking the last of his belongings. The sound of crickets outside is still louder than their voices, though. The silence is welcomed, Aphelios is about to close his eyes and relax; wait until the doctor’s done with the process but a pressure clamps his belly. It’s Alune’s own fear as she looks towards Rakan.

He’s holding Sett’s calling card in his hand.

“Yo’, what’s this?” he asks while looking at the wolverine symbol glinting in the light. He flips it and starts reading the words etched on it. “ _ ‘You got his attention, you’ll be seeing him soon’ _ —Is this some funny club you like going to?”

His heart has started to beat wildly inside his chest just by hearing those words. A lot of encountered feelings make a mess of his head, he wants to come up with an explanation but he’s always been a terrible liar. He swallows and looks over to Alune silently asking for her help.

Xayah’s eyes are wide again. “That’s the half-blood of Navori.”

“What!” Rakan flips the card twice again, as if it was necessary to make a double-assessment. “You mean the pit boss? What a crazy coincidence!”

Xayah takes the card from him and shows it to Alune. “Why do you have this?”

_ “We have participated in his arena once or twice,”  _ she says, putting her hands together and resting them on her lap.  _ “There are not many other ways to make money for us and my brother still needs to eat and sleep.” _

“I’m sure there are other options.” Xayah frowns. “This is just dealing with the lowest of the low, do you know  _ what  _ he  _ is _ ?”

_ “If the Moon leads us somewhere, we abide without doubt.”  _ Alune looks at her with sincere sorrow.  _ “Our people aren’t the wealthiest, our choices are limited.” _

“Your people?” Asks Rakan as he jumps into the conversation. He snaps his fingers with a smile. “Oh! The targonians—I knew you looked familiar!”

_ “I beg your pardon?”  _ Alune’s reaction every time he tells her something is turning rather funny.

“Are you friends with a lady named Diana? You look kinda similar—she was  _ a lot  _ taller than you, though.” He smiles and Alune doesn’t bother hiding her excitement.

_ “You have seen her? The aspect of the Moon, Diana herself?”  _ Alune’s grin is wide as Rakan nods.  _ “We happen to be looking for her, do you know where she might be?” _

Rakan’s smile falls. “Oh, uh—”

“She’s traveling to a city in Navori—what are the odds,” says Xayah. “Left only a few days ago—well, as days go by here—outside it must’ve been a couple of hours.”

Alune turns her smiling face to Aphelios.  _ “Did you hear that, brother?” _

He nods but his expression remains the same, just as the clouded remnants of feelings that he can’t tell apart one from the other.

_ “Our paths crossed with a meaning,”  _ she whispers. Xayah smiles, proud of herself.  _ “This is the first trail of her we’ve come across in a long time.” _

Deep down, Aphelios wishes he could feel half the excitement of his sister right now. As soon as the topic about Sett was dropped, his head went back to the same silent peace.

He looks down as he sighs. When he raises his head again he meets the doctor’s gaze, who has already been watching him. While Aphelios holds the stare without flinching, the man looks away with a brisk bow of his head and it’s obvious he has caught onto something the others did not. Aphelios doesn’t call him out on it, though, not that it really bothers him as long as it doesn’t get him into trouble.

“But wait, that wasn’t—” Xayah looks over at Rakan and scoffs. “We were  _ not  _ talking about this before.”

“What?” Rakan arches an eyebrow and taps his chin. “Was it important?”

“It very much is.” She raises the card again. Aphelios’ heart crawls up to his throat. “This half-breed, what’s your deal with him?”

The way she speaks of him gives Aphelios a sudden itch to ‘beat her ass up’ as Sett would say. He doesn’t know why it annoys him so much, but it does. He doesn’t like it one bit. Alune looks from the corner of her eye, she seems concerned but doesn’t voice it. He knows how sensitive her side of the connection is, especially when it comes to his feelings. He looks away from their conversation, as if to get his mind off it.

“Are you close to him?” Asks the doctor. His tone seems innocent, but when Aphelios looks at him, he feels the judgement seeping from his eyes. They’re shining bright green.

_ “Of course we are not,”  _ Alune says, maybe with a little  _ too much  _ conviction.  _ “Our interactions are reduced to a minimum, really.” _

That’s a way to put it. Aphelios thinks that over and his head hurts just by attempting to come up with an answer. He has seen more of Sett than he’d like to admit—or more than he’d like to share—but in the end, it’s all the same. What their relationship turns out to be after that is still a mystery.

“Great!” says Rakan. He lets his body down on the hammock again, and his cheeky smile sends a shiver down his spine. “‘Cause you better stay away from him for a while.”

“Rakan.” Xayah’s brows furrow and she gives him the hundredth glared that night.

“They ought to know, shouldn’t they?” The doctor looks up right after disposing of the bloody rag. Once that’s done his focus is on Aphelios’ wounds again, treating each one with utmost care. This catches Alune’s attention and she looks at the doctor’s hands tending his injuries.

“No.” Xayah’s decision is clearly the final one, as the other two seem unconvinced but don’t dare to argue. “All you need to know is that you must avoid him, that’s all.”

Alune nods, her smile is sincere but the concern she has for Aphelios only allows her to give an acknowledging nod.  _ “We will be careful, thank you.” _

As Xayah extends the card back to Aphelios, he feels a thousand needles prickling his stomach. He takes a look at it before putting it next to him on the bed, its dark colors make it stand out from the white sheets; the doctor’s eyes also look at it with curiosity before returning to his work.

Rakan stands and shrugs, stretching his wing when a long yawn stops his walking around the room. Xayah loops a hand around his arm and she snorts. They share a look, different from all the others. It’s also silent, but it’s smooth around the edges. Rakan murmurs something—Aphelios doesn’t need to hear to know the nature of his words—and Xayah’s face brightens beautifully; she looks completely different from the ferocious woman she was seconds ago.

A sting travels up his chest and he looks away, embarrassed. It reminds him of someone, Sett’s smile appears in his head and there’s a fire in his gaze that burns his chest. He shuts his eyes, his heart chases that feeling but all he finds is nothing but an empty and solitary void.

“Sorry, did that hurt?” The doctor’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. When he opens his eyes, the man is hovering his fingers over one of his wounds. Aphelios shakes his head, feeling the flame inside his ribs subside.

_ “He's probably just a little tired.”  _ Alune says for him.  _ “It’s been a long day for us.” _

Xayah puts Aphelios’ bag on the table. It’s neatly done and she smooths out the wrinkles with her hands as she speaks, “We’d love to let you stay, but we don’t think our tribe would approve of our reasoning, it’d be hard to explain.”

_ “We understand.”  _ Her hands join on her lap once again before offering a small bow in gratitude.  _ “You have done more than enough for us.” _

“We’ll wait outside.” Xayah lets Rakan take her hands as he leads the way out. “You’ll need an escort to leave the forest.”

Alune gives them one last nod as they cross the doorframe and leave the room. Aphelios feels the penetrating gaze of his sister on him. He knows Alune is also concerned with the warning Xayah has left them with. The lack of details only left room for doubt, the danger that seemed to be an imminent consequence of whatever they had between hands. But if there’s something Alune’s good at, it’s making people  _ talk. _

_ “It’s a shame we won’t be able to visit the pits.”  _ Alune lets out a dramatic sigh.  _ “Despite everything, it was our only source of income.” _

“It’s better that way, I assure you,” says the man. “In fact, you should  _ always  _ avoid him.”

Alune hums with curiosity.  _ “How so?” _

The doctor scoffs. “He’s a thug, who knows what kind of things he does when he isn’t enjoying a bloodbath in his arena.” He rolls his eyes as if the answer was obvious. “And the worst of all: he’s a half-breed.”

There’s an edge in Aphelios’ thoughts again. That odd irritation is present once more. He says nothing,  _ thinks  _ nothing, knowing he’ll disturb Alune’s act with them.

_ “Ah, we’ve heard that often.”  _ She puts a finger on her chin.  _ “Seems to make a few heads turn.” _

“For a good reason!” He lifts his head as he exclaims, those words fill the comfortable quietness with a poisonous hatred. “Our heritage is bestowed with magic, associating with humans will only stain it—our ancestors conserved those traditions for hundreds of years.”

Alune puts a hand over her chest and gasps, as if she was truly astonished to hear that.  _ “How horrible,”  _ she says.

There it is. Her act looks like mockery to someone who knows what she’s doing. Aphelios raises an eyebrow at her but she doesn’t let that ruin her performance.

“It is! Just look how that  _ thing  _ turned out.” He shakes his head in disapproval. “Using his magic—our magic—to fight for  _ fun _ , to seek power and wealth.”

As Aphelios’ eyes looks at the doctor’s rhythmic movements on his injuries, his thoughts wander. He squints dubiously at that accusation. He doesn’t know a lot of things about Sett, that’s true. But after that night, he’s had the feeling that the rumors about him are worse than the real deal.

“He’s just like all the noxian scumbags that came to our lands,” he mutters. Aphelios has a feeling that they weren’t supposed to hear that, with how he spoke without looking at them. His shy and polite act is gone for that short second. “A vastaya choosing a noxian over her own kin, how disgraceful.”

Now  _ that’s  _ something that makes Aphelios’ interest spike up, a piece of information about Sett that he didn’t know of. He wants to sign, ask him more about him, but Alune intervenes before he can even think of what he wants to say.

_ “I definitely know what you mean.”  _ Her sad expression fools her victim. His feathers glow green as she gets closer to him.  _ “There are some things that just don’t go together.” _

He nods. “Exactly, humans go with humans, vastaya with vastaya.”

_ “The same way the Moon is apart from the Sun.”  _ As she provides that simple metaphor, her smile grows. Aphelios watches both mesmerized and terrified as the man’s eyes gleam with joy. He nods again, smiling back.

“Yes, yes.” He nods again. “You get it.”

His sister raises her hand to her mouth as she giggles and there’s a quietness in her soul. Despite the conversation being so full of revulsion towards a person they both know, she’s serene. Like lying about this doesn’t hurt her in any way. He asks himself, why would it, when all of this is just theatrics. That she’s putting a front for their captor for the sake of their well-being.

The pain in his chest prickles at his heart. There’s an uncomfortable ache when those words have been spoken by her. She’s the person who knows him better than anyone else in the world, but in this moment it feels like she’s never been so out of his orbit; she might just float away. He says he doesn’t want her to know but deep down he wishes she did.

It was not odd to hear  _ his  _ name where they traveled. People would speak of a half-beast, of a  _ monster  _ ascending to power in the barbaric underworld Noxus had left in the Ionian lands. They spoke of his heartless nature, of the violent tendencies. That one hit could kill you, that he was nothing but a cruel trouble-maker. They’d all flinch at the sound of his name.

None of those ever seem to be the proper description of him. He remembers Sett, right? His kind eyes, the sincere smile as he offered something without expecting anything back. And even after Aphelios gave him  _ something  _ to pay for his charitable invitation to his home, all Sett wanted was Aphelios to stay.

Still, these memories felt distant, as if they didn’t belong to him. For long weeks he thought of them, sometimes he awoke one of those feelings again but it would disappear as soon as it came to life. Of that eventful night, when his body had never felt that warm, all the empty spaces were full of so much emotion.

A constant game of chase. But he felt as empty as he always did.

_ “—hope we don’t interfere in your plans,”  _ he hears Alune say, the sound of her voice wakes him from his daydream.

“Look.” His eyes skip towards the door and he covers one side of his face as he whispers to both of them. “She just doesn’t want to compromise the mission.”

Alune’s face twists in worry.  _ “Is it a big confrontation? We avoid fights as much as we can.” _

“It’s not a fight,” he says. “We’re looking for something and we heard that  _ he  _ knows where we can find it—this winter seems to be a cold one and we need it.”

The doctor keeps his hands occupied even after he’s done with Aphelios’ wounds. He picks up his medical tools, cleaning them thoroughly. Alune and Aphelios share a look once again. It’s one that speaks a hundred and one worries that have been left lingering in the air.

“I don’t like fights either.” He doesn’t look up as he continues talking, “But if it comes to that, then I’ll do what I must.”

_ “But you don’t look like someone who’s meant to be a fighter—or who wants to.”  _ Alune’s words catched the doctor by surprise.

“That’s not for me to decide.” His eyes drift to an empty space in the room. “My family gave their lives for this cause, this is the least I could do in their honor.”

He stands before Alune can speak one more word. The implications of his last sentence are more than obvious. He puts his tools away inside a cabinet, dragging his body with a hunched back and empty eyes. His face becomes sorrowful as he crosses the room again and stands before a bamboo-crafted crate. He kneels before it and there’s a conflict of emotions written all over his face as he looks at them again.

“Am I wrong to assume that you two understand this more than anyone else?” The question sends a strange chill down Aphelios’ spine. The green glow of his eyes locking him down in place. “To become the servant of a cause you didn’t ask for.”

_ “Your devotion to your people is admirable.”  _ Alune’s words are a cold reminder of his own destiny.  _ “I am sure your family would be proud of you.” _

The man smiles at his sister and nods. There’s an electrifying charge running through Aphelios’ body. It’s a breath that freezes his lungs when he sees himself in this man’s place. His eyes, even as he smiles at Alune, are full of  _ something  _ familiar he can’t name but it isn’t happiness. Nor pride, nor courage. Aphelios is looking at his own self reflected on him, of the feelings that he keeps digging a hole for. A man trapped in the confinement of his responsibility. One he didn’t want but was bestowed upon him—be it by compliance or fear, it’s a chain holding him back from what he truly craves.

They say nothing else. The man’s feathers glint with the light as he turns around again, opening the chest’s lid. He takes a dark shirt he inspects with a quick glance and walks towards Aphelios.

“Since your shirt is beyond repair, I thought you could use this.” He smiles at him. Aphelios takes the shirt in his hands, it’s a strange material he can’t recognize from touching it. “It’s a transmuted leather, we use magic to enhance the resistance of our clothes.” He provides that answer as if he had read his thoughts.

Aphelios thinks that after he sees his eyes glow again, maybe he has.

Alune chuckles, covering her mouth with a hand.  _ “Isn’t that a little too small for you, mister?” _

“It used to be my brother’s, he happened to be  _ your  _ brother’s size.” His reply isn’t as depressing as it should’ve been, in fact, his smile doesn’t disappear as he looks at Aphelios. “It’s been collecting dust in there so I know you might put it to good use.”

He nods before raising his arms to put his head and arms through it. It hugs his frame perfectly. The sleeves are just as long, which he greatly appreciates. He already had a spare in his bag just in case this kind of thing happened. Most of the time his clothes had been fixable, he could sew them back easily since he never got into that many fights anymore, not after he’d left Targon. But it was about time he ditched that old thing, anyways.

The material is just slightly thicker. It feels soft and light, though. As he stretches his body, it lets him move freely without restraint. There’s a strange kind of energy engulfing him, just like this whole place has been doing from the beginning.

“It suits you.” He says this with a smile, but there’s a nostalgic atmosphere in his eyes. The man wants to say something, but he keeps closing his mouth as if trying to hold it back.

Alune stands next to him and nods.  _ “It surely does, aren’t you a lucky one, brother?” _

There’s only silence as Aphelios puts the rest of his clothes back on. As he picks his necklace, one of the pendants pops as it’s about to break. He gently puts it in a single pocket separate from everything else. Once he has the time—and the money, of course—he’ll have it fixed.

_ “Do you think this will be enough to get you through the winter?”  _ asks Alune. The man stands next to them and clears his throat.

“He might need something more appropriate.” He’s looking at Alune as he says that, but his eyes eventually find Aphelios’ as he continues. “I could give you a coat, Vastayan feathers are great to keep the cold out.”

Absentmindedly, he touches his wing as it hugs him from one side. Aphelios looks at it and the thought crosses his mind before he can stop it: if he could choose a place to be warm it’d be in someone’s embrace. Despite the emotionally-charged idea behind that dream, Aphelios can’t feel anything from thinking about it. A missing ingredient that leaves a taste in his mouth he can’t decipher. He wonders if the fixation his heart has on Sett is nothing but a flaw. A mistake, perhaps, because he’s confused two different people, or because he’s had a vivid hallucination.

_ “Oh, do you have a spare?”  _ asks his sister. She promptly looks at the chest the man took the shirt out from, as if it would magically present another piece of clothing.

“I would make it, from my own that is.” He looks away for a second, his throat bobs as he swallows. “They aren’t as flashy but they do their job—you’d be warm.”

Alune’s grin grows wide as she raises her eyebrows.

“I mean—your brother, he’d be warm!” He corrects himself, as he addresses Alune once again. “My only intention is to aid your quest as a spirit.”

The man takes a peek at the door and sighs relieved. Aphelios’ eyebrows rise only slightly. From his attentive stares to the way he spoke about Sett, it was clear that this man had a clear set of values and principles. Because Aphelios was starting to think this man—Yan, knew a lot more than he’d let on, and much to Aphelios’ dismay, seemed too observant and nosy for his own good. However, offering him a gift betrayed all those impressions, especially the one about how the vastaya  _ felt  _ about humans. Judging from the way he reacted to that, Xayah and Rakan’s exchangement of feathers on their chests; it was very simple to guess what kind of meaning it had to give such a present to another person. He wouldn’t dare to accept it, knowing he didn’t harbor feelings for him—or had the time to work on his feelings at all in the first place.

But then again, his ever-hollow coin purse with his savings gets emptier as the days go by. This might be a chance he can’t afford to refuse.

Alune smirks.  _ “I’m sure my brother would love to, but I don’t think we have the time.” _

She looks towards the door and Yan follows her eyes. He looks at both of them and nods with a smile. He takes the bag laying on his table and puts it in Aphelios’ open arms. Their fingers graze and he’s surprised at the warmth that he feels. Another memory takes reins of his mind, of the heat of another person’s body. He takes it back, maybe he wants that coat.

As Alune follows him closely behind, the mist of her spirit disappears in the air slowly, but her frame seems more defined. She seems to be aware of this as she looks around and her eyes widen with wonder.

Right beyond the exit, Xayah and Rakan are sitting on the root of a nearby tree. Aphelios looks up and the air feels  _ alive  _ as the energy flows freely around him. The bright blue particles that float around make the world feel ethereal, like it’s out of a fantasy. The image of a dream, he looks upwards and the night sky is the most beautiful he’s ever seen. The pale trunks look as if they were dancing, bright strings of energy flowing through them.

Most of the landscape is devoid of leaves, the few ones that remain are dry and crack loudly to the drafts of the wind. As autumn comes to an end, the shades of reds and yellows cover the floor, Aphelios’ steps crush them as he walks alongside the spirit of his sister. Her figure stands next to him and her eyes are full of wonder.

She looks down and as she takes a step the leaves dip. The movement is subtle but it’s there nonetheless. Aphelios takes a deep breath, her feet don’t affect the world exactly the same as if she had been there in the flesh. The edges of her feet cross over the surface of some of them, the same way Aphelios’ hands do when he tries to touch her. Yet, she hasn’t been like this, this  _ real  _ since they accepted their fates.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Asks Yan, standing next to her. “How the world was always meant to be?”

_ “It’s like I’m really here.”  _ Alune’s tears fall down her cheeks. Aphelios reaches out to wipe them, perhaps by reflex, but he never learns. His fingers never touch her skin, a small disappointment devastates him but it’s gone soon before he can think of that feeling.

“I’m sorry.” Yan’s voice is barely a whisper. “I don’t think you can touch your sister ever again.”

By the look on his sister’s face, Aphelios knows it’s a statement he should resent hearing, but he only takes his hand back and looks away. She cleans the tears off her face just as Xayah stands from her sitting spot, pulling at Rakan’s arm as she tries getting him up from there.

“You’re lucky, you know? Because you’re still connected.” Yan looks up, that green glow in his eyes dissipating. “Some of us aren’t blessed with the same gift.”

Rakan’s glimmering feathers blind Aphelios as he dances between them. He shuts his eyes and rubs them, annoyed. Not that it’s his fault, but how can anybody  _ stand  _ to look at him?

“Y’all done? I almost fell asleep,” he says, a smirk on his face.

It’s a change of pace. One that breaks the icy atmosphere that was escalating in their previous conversation. His speech is full of joy, the way he walks and dances as he leads them out of the forest relieves the tension.

“Good luck on your trip.” Yan’s voice comes almost like a whisper. “It’s been an honor.”

His respectful bow is received with Aphelios’ own.

_ “You have a kind heart, Yan”  _ Alune smiles again, her hair blowing as a gust of wind passes by them.  _ “I will pray to the moon for you.” _

It’s Aphelios’ turn to be surprised as Yan’s face seems to turn a shade darker around his cheeks and a few feathers puff out as he laughs and nods. Yan opens his mouth but says nothing. Alune does grasp the substance of his reaction and she only smiles. When she turns around, she gives her brother a knowing look, her smirk and arched eyebrow are met with the roll of Aphelios’ eyes.

They continue on their way behind Rakan and Xayah’s steps. Alune looks back and waves goodbye as they disappear behind the tall and thick trunks of the trees. She steps around the roots and the flowers, the sound of her steps is inaudible, but the noise of the things she touches are clear as water. She seems to be part of the world around them. The night illuminates their path, the brightness of her light made it look as if the Moon was enjoying watching one of her children be alive once more.

Aphelios felt the corners of his mouth pull up. He knew this feeling. He did because it was one of the few that remained a constant in his life. The joy he felt when he saw his sister relishing in being alive despite being trapped somewhere else, a place that isolated her from the beauty of the world.

“This cold is crazy!” Rakan shivers and his breaths paint small clouds in front of his face. He rubs his arms with his hands. “How are you  _ not  _ cold?”

Aphelios looks at himself as if trying to assess his own condition.

_ “Despite what my brother might look like, he’s rather resistant to the cold,”  _ says Alune with the pride leaking into her smile.  _ “The targonian mountains had colder temperatures, we’re used to this weather.” _

Xayah snorts. “That’s  _ actually  _ terrifying.”

“It is!” Rakan’s shriek echoes in the forest. “Did you hibernate or something? Those Solari guys had it easy!”

Alune’s laugh resonates around them, but it’s not as loud as Rakan’s. The shape of her figure has started dissipating further. Her feet no longer dip the grass.

_ “We managed.”  _ Her smile doesn’t go away as she looks at Aphelios.  _ “We had to stay hidden in the caves, anyway.” _

“We sure know that feeling all too well.” Xayah’s voice is low and the struggle in it is evident.

There’s an awkward silence after that. Rakan keeps his eyes trained on Xayah despite hers being stuck to the ground as she walks. Their trip is silent the rest of the way out. With the passing of the seconds, the further they get from the forest’s center, Aphelios notices the rim of his sister’s spirit fade out. How she struggled to see, squeezing her eyes to her surroundings. Her smile disappears with each step they take, until she’s forced to return to his side, almost as if there’s an invisible rope reeling her back to him.

They’re at the edge of the forest by then.

“Can I ask one thing from you?” asks Xayah, looking at what remains of Alune’s spirit.

Rakan stands next to her, his whole body trembling like a leaf. Their wings come around one another behind their backs. As Aphelios looks in the distance, way past their heads, the lights of a village shine in the darkness. Alune’s mind pulls at him but he can no longer tell what she feels.

“Promise me you’ll keep this a secret—that we helped you, that we’re here.” Xayah takes Rakan’s hand in hers. She looks at their hold with dejection right before looking at Alune once again. “We can’t be prepared to face the winter  _ and  _ to defend ourselves from our enemies at the same time.”

Then, going after whatever Sett has must be truly important for them. Aphelios doesn’t say a thing or think too much of it, though. That’s not for him to worry about.

_ “Of course, you have our word,”  _ says Alune. Her voice is merely a whisper now.

Their farewell is less emotive than the one they shared with Yan. In a way, it’s to be expected, but there’s something in their eyes as they watch them leave. Perhaps a sympathy they don’t have the courage to voice but one he’s seen before in the face of his people. The one that says: we’re grateful we are not  _ you. _

Aphelios walks down a dirt road towards the town he’d seen before. The clouds have filled the night sky and the Moon’s light has faded a little.

_ “You didn’t forget anything, did you?”  _ Mocked his sister.  _ “You seemed rather distracted by that place—or that man.” _

Aphelios rolls his eyes.  _ You are one to talk,  _ he signs.

When she starts laughing is when he feels the dread put a hole in his stomach.

He touches his pockets out of instinct. His heart beats faster and  _ faster  _ as he pulls his bag up and unclasps it. Xayah’s hard-work is thrown out of the window when he almost turns his bag inside out looking for  _ it. _ Looking for the card. He looks back at the hill where Xayah and Rakan had stayed when they parted, but they were both long gone.

_ “Did you seriously leave something?”  _ Her sister’s tone is still full of teasing, a loud laugh bursting out again.

He left it on the bed and he forgot to pick it up. The  _ only  _ thing they took out of his bag and had the decency to return to his hands. And he left it.

He puts everything back inside when he knows there’s no hope in getting it back. It wasn’t that important anyway, was it? Not like he needs it anymore. Yet, there’s something burning under his skin by thinking of someone else having that in their hands.

_ “What in the world did you forget?”  _ She asks. Her smile is still there, but now it’s just a confused one.

_ Nothing,  _ he signs.

_ “Nothing?”  _ She scoffs.  _ “You’re furious.” _

When he’s about to dismiss her concern again, a harsh wind ruffles his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut and covers his face as he tries walking. Through squinting eyes he makes his way to the village. When the winds die down, Alune makes a comment on the weather, something that he doesn’t respond to, knowing it’s meant to fill the silence.

He looks up at the Moon and wonders if that was her doing. A little prank to help him out of that troubling conversation. Even when he doesn’t know, he thanks her.

When they sit inside the humble room in the town’s inn, Aphelios pulls his coat off and places it on his lap. He sits on the mattress as close as he can to the oil lamp on his bedside, looking at the holes and open seams in his clothes. He picks the threaded needle he keeps with him, making a note to buy a new thread spool before leaving town tomorrow.

Patiently, he manages to sew the small gaps made by the noxian blades that he hadn’t dodged perfectly. Of the few others Xayah had done herself with her feathers. Prick the fabric, pull the thread. He remembers learning this back at the monastery along with his sister. Inside the walls of the Lunari temples he was forced to do this as a kid. And he hated it because he always ended up poking his fingers.

A tiny red spot where he’s sewing makes an opportune apparition. He looks at his finger, pulling the needle back for a second as he inspects the injury. His index has a miniscule red dot on it, with his thumb he presses—it feels a little masochistic, something he doesn’t really enjoy as much for the pain but for the need to  _ feel _ —and watches the blood drip from the small bruise.

But he feels nothing at all.

Funny, how just minutes ago he felt the annoyance stirring in his chest. How his cheeks heated at the sight of Sett’s card and the memories that rouse from that conversation. How thinking of his destination makes his heart beat faster, as if his chest would burst open. The adrenaline pumping in his veins, the excitement to reach that place thumps all throughout his body.

The promise of seeing Sett again is a risk, but maybe a risk as impossible to avoid as his destiny.

And he’s not arguing with the will of the Moon tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you're ready to take this journey with me and the boys. I think I'll update the tags as I publish each chapter, keeps things a little more exciting :3c
> 
> I gotta keep my brand sooo the title is from the lyrics of "Angels" by The xx.
> 
> And thank you Sun for being my beta <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your unending patience and loving support!! I read all your comments all the time, they always make my day.
> 
> I really love this story and I can't wait to share it all <3 Also huge shout-out to all of you who suggested me to put this into a series! This time, it's named after _Delta_ by Mumford & Sons.
> 
> Here's to 17k words.

There are moments when Alune thinks she dreams again.

It’s easy to grow tired of the landscape that surrounds the Marus Omegnum. It’s as beautiful as it is quiet, with no other person or creature in sight. There’s a strange wind that blows constantly in different directions; it never seems to have an origin and every so often a stray spirit will pass by, as it’s dragged by it. Those don’t stay or acknowledge her existence, despite her attempts to call for them.

For brief moments she’s tempted to wander further away from the fortress but never finds the courage to do so. Sometimes, when she walks close to the lakes outside the temple’s gardens, she feels an ill power oozing from it as if inviting her to touch it. It’s intoxicating, but Alune’s will has always been strong enough to endure its provocations.

That’s why she tends to close her eyes frequently, hoping to fall asleep. She never can, though, her body doesn't really need it; but sometimes what she sees when she closes her eyes feels like a dream. Glimpses of different universes or impossible situations that can only be true in a world different than this one.

She often has visions, but those are akin to feel different. It’s the cold shivers; the whispers of the moon; the odd taste of something  _ new  _ in her mouth. They’re usually accompanied by the emotional and physical reactions of the person she sees, and she can feel those things as if it was actually happening to her. By now, Alune’s used to the signs and it’s easier to tell apart the real thing from the fake one.

Which is why when she feels what she  _ feels _ —the warmth around her frame, the comfort of a safe place and the heavy,  _ loving  _ beats of her heart—that she opens her eyes wide in surprise. There’s a thing about the situation she finds herself in; the look in Sett’s eyes as he stands just right in front of her—no, in front of her  _ brother—and the lovestruck smile as he speaks, _

_ “You still in there,” he says. His hands softly caresses Aphelios’ cheek. “My—” _

Her will is stronger than the Moon’s call. As she wakes from it, sooner than she should have, the air that envelops her is cold for the first time in so long. Her whole body trembles and she hugs herself as the tiny shivers subside.

That was too real to be a dream.

It’s the loss of warmth that makes her skin prickle. The vision lingers on the edges of her mind, fogging her judgement. As the Moon’s magic fades, she recovers her own sense of self and the remnants of someone else’s future disappear. It’s not a particularly close event, she knows that much, but there’s something misplaced in it. She doesn’t know how this could be a possible outcome, knowing that these two people have such a superficial relationship. Sett’s nothing but an informant. Nothing else. Unless she’s wrong about that, then asking Aphelios is the only way to know.

The webs of time are still murmuring in her ears when she takes a peek into the real world.

It’s a sight that she can barely enjoy. Whenever she stands here the world turns into a white foggy place. As she looks around, the people and the places are nothing but dark translucent figures. It’s only ever clear when her brother is looking directly at them.

A striking contrast when she compares this to the view in the temple’s spirit world. How it feels, however, is equally dull and cold. The gentle chills of the night embrace her brother as she takes a look at him, the only thing that’s clearer to her than anything else. He stands in the corner of a busy marketplace as he’s counting the coins he still has. The sound is muffled but the flimsy connection of the poison. There’s a faint smell of fried food in the air and Alune wishes she could feel hungry again, if only for her stomach to growl.

Her brother’s coin-purse has lost a considerable weight in the last few weeks they’ve been traveling. She knows Aphelios tends to be careful with the way he spends his money, but he never shies away from using it when he needs to. Which makes his following actions all the more strange.

When he walks away from the plaza, the quietness of the streets dull out in the distance. He adjusts his bag as he puts the coin-purse back inside it. Alune discards her physical form, looking through his eyes instead and this makes the world a little more defined. The night is young and the streets are busier the more they walk. The roads are dirtier and less cared for, and the houses are smaller and closer together, humble in appearance. At the edges of the city, where it bustles with certain  _ types  _ of people, there’s a kind of interest that brings them all together at this time of the night.

_ “Phel,”  _ she whispers, as if anybody could hear her.  _ “You’re fighting tonight.” _

She’s not asking about it, it’s a statement, one that is met with silence from Aphelios’ part. The only thing she gets is a nod.

_ “They told us to stay away from Sett’s pit.”  _ Her warning troubles him, she can feel the uneasiness rise within him, but it’s not enough to make him stop.  _ “Are you going to break your promise? Do you think it’s our place to meddle?” _

Again, there’s no answer. An anxious feeling clouds her chest, a feeling of hurt and betrayal when knowing there might be a secret so vital that Aphelios decided to keep from her.

_ “You won’t tell me what’s going on?”  _ she finally asks, unsure how to approach him.

Aphelios sighs, shaking his hand at her. She knows how much he hates being asked so many questions in public. Attracts the eyes of strangers to see a man gesturing sign-language to nobody, and her brother isn’t one to like the attention. She’s worried, though, whatever he’s hiding is jeopardizing their mission—and his well-being, for that matter—and she knows this isn’t like him at all.

It was true that she knew Aphelios had secrets, whether it was of his personal life or simple daily occurrences that he had no intention of sharing, she trusted him to tell her what was important. Maybe the old Alune would’ve brought up those issues to talk to him about it. But those times were long gone, forgotten in the past.

Like this odd Sett situation. A small part of her is dying to demand the truth, but another, bigger side of herself begged to differ. You are not the same people anymore.

Aphelios waves a hand to pick her attention. She notices the darkness of the alley they walk through, right before reaching a very familiar place.

_ Need information,  _ he signs.  _ Before things go bad. _

Her tense body relaxes—that made more sense. It was no explanation for his previous behaviour when they encountered the Vastaya or the vision she had just now, but it was something she’s used to seeing. Perhaps it’s all unfounded concerns, that’s all it must be.

The Moon’s calming aura keeps her level-headed. If there’s anything that’ll cause them harm, she’ll know. Even as they step in the busy entrance of Sett’s arena, she doesn’t feel any looming threats. There’s a lot of people outside, some of them standing together as they talk. She can’t see their faces or understand their words; Aphelios pays no mind to them. As he goes inside, the guards barely look at him as he waits in-line to enlist for the next match.

The ticket office is basically empty at this point, considering most paid seats are already taken. But Aphelios isn’t here as a spectator.

“You’ll be up soon, don’t make the boss wait,” says the man as he drags the coins off the counter and adds them to a growing pile behind him. As he writes his name down, one of the men guarding the till gives Aphelios a terrifying glare, as if daring him to try anything suspicious.

Aphelios isn’t worried, he simply walks away from the multitude of people and shoves his way out of there. He walks up the first set of stairs towards the main event. Alune’s spirit leaves his body after that moment and examines the scenery.

The coliseum’s noise is rampant. There’s a smell of dirt and sweat; Alune can hear the yells of the audience too intense for her liking, glad she’s not there to listen to all of this as loud as it actually is.

It’s big, but nothing compared to the noxian pits they once saw on their journey here. This one is hidden almost completely by its wooden walls; carved and weaved like the typical Ionian signature architecture, while the molten iron and the bronze statutes put the final touches on the place altogether. An intricate combination of different cultures, as the war left a permanent mark in this country, especially this part of it. The ceiling is extremely high up, some of it has merged with the trees that surround it. It conceals it almost completely from the public eye. The leaves provide shade during the day, though it rarely opens at those hours.

But it doesn’t matter the time, The Pit is the heart of this side of town. A whole different commercial district sheltered around the trunks of its trees and thick stone walls. A rising  _ empire,  _ one could say. Aphelios had visited those places, wandered its streets aimlessly once ages ago, when the pit was half-empty and modest. With the passing of the seasons they saw it grow at a very slow pace, but still picking up the changes with each short visit. The businesses that thrived alongside it, safely cared for by Sett himself.

Which may be one of the many reasons why people  _ love  _ this place so much. A man yells incredibly loud next to her. His body is nothing but a blur, but she eyes him with annoyance either way. It doesn’t matter how many times she’s been here, it seems like the intense atmosphere—and more specifically, the loud volume—will always irritate her. Aphelios, on the other hand, moves away without saying a word. He picks his bag in his hands and carries it against his chest, knowing pick-pocketers are common around this type of mob. He walks further up the stairs, eyeing the arena now and again: the centre of the show, carved below ground and surrounded by a dense barricade of stone walls, some sides dented with scars of past battles.

Being at the top of the grandstands doesn’t let you see that much, Alune has to squint her eyes to even make sense of the two tiny bodies moving there. It’s only fair, considering this is the free tier, made for those only here to place their bets or the others who’re looking to get a taste of the entertainment. Looking down she can see the more expensive seatings emptier with the more respected figures or the rich business class, typically Sett’s clients.

There’s a clash of blades that can’t be deafened by the crowd as two tall gladiators fight for their lives in the arena, one of them clearly has the upperhand, tackling the other with the strength of a bull.

There’s spectators standing from their seats as they scream for their favorites, and the rest of them enjoying the bloodshed arranged for them. The fight has just started, their injuries nothing but superficial cuts and bruises.

Alune feels the excitement of the battle. Even when she’s not the one in front of the crowd, there’s something that thrills her about this. Soon, it won’t be those two, but her brother and another poor soul they’ll have to defeat. She pulls at her magic for a vision. They’ll stand in the arena sooner than later and this is the part of their deal: she looks at the future and guides him through it. As simple as that.

She closes her eyes, placing herself in a realm between the spirit and the living. Again, the pulling eventually brings those images to a place in her mind, she listens closely and expects to see an answer to her request: who are they fighting or what weapons are the most effective ones. 

A warmth makes room in her chest, a strange feeling of embarrassment that doesn’t fit the situation she’s hoping for. Where is the pump in  _ his  _ veins out of agitation and the tensing of  _ his  _ muscles when holding his guns? She opens her eyes, and Sett stands right before them and her whole body is paralyzed. She holds her breath for that short second—as if it even mattered if she stopped breathing—and the fear vanishes as quick as it came to her.

It’s not the arena where they’re standing. The light is a soft glow, Sett’s eyes are kind and his smile doesn’t have any malice in it as he looks down, so  _ softly squeezing Aphelios’ shoulder in reassurance. _

Her brother’s energy pulls her out of it. She opens her eyes to a confused Aphelios in the real world. Oops, she might’ve showed him that by accident. He only stares back at her with an arched eyebrow. He has stopped walking in the middle of the stairs and the world is reduced to him again, the white fog clouding everything but him. He doesn’t even need to sign, Alune already knows what question he’s asking.

_ “Sorry,”  _ she says, though she doesn’t know why she’s apologizing in the first place.  _ “I didn’t mean to do that.” _

Aphelios scoffs and shakes his head. His face remains as expressionless as always, but she sees a phantom image of her brother with a pout. In her memories, he pushes her shoulder with barely any meaningful strength as he says—

_ Nosy.  _ His sign goes unnoticed by the people around him, as all their eyes are trained on the fight below.

It doesn’t distract her for long, but there it is again, the worry of seeing something completely out of her comfort zone. Perhaps she’s looking into Sett’s future instead, which is equally odd, but a possibility nonetheless. That didn’t take away her brother from being in them, though. It might be just that then, the thing that Aphelios keeps hiding that explains all of this.

As he looks at the arena again, the fight becomes clear and Alune decides to shake off these worries for now.

She always had a knack for watching the brawls back at the monastery. When her brother was still training under the watchful eyes of the Lunari warriors, he’d participate in the ones that were for the sake of training. However, every once in a while, the retired veterans practiced ceremonial fights in honor of the Moon. All Lunari young and old were invited to enjoy one last example of excellence from their best knights. Possibly, it was her lack of participation in them that attracted her so much to it.

Of course, these pit fights were only made to sate a morbid need for amusement, but there was still technique and effort. She respects that.

The tallest of the two fighters holds in his hands one of the biggest axes she’s seen. He swings it at a measured angle, accompanied by a scream and the strain of his muscles. His adversary—a much smaller noxian soldier with a sword—dodges the assault only by  _ luck  _ and Alune’s surprised gasp joins the ones made by the audience.

Another yell, the axe-gladiator swings his weapon again, this time his opponent tries to block it with her sword but it breaks in half and flies away from her hands. Alune’s eyes are locked on the small one, hoping she can come up with a new strategy in time, but her enemy is relentless with his strikes and all she does is jump between attacks, dodging every deathly blow.

Without a weapon, the soldier lunges forward with a fist, still refusing to back down. Taken by surprise, the man changes his posture but the first hit connects straight to his left cheek. He drops his weapon and decides to match her in hand-to-hand combat; she doesn’t seem worried about it. He takes one hit after the other, and this blood taints her armor and the sand until he’s barely standing.

She takes his axe and in the heat of the battle it doesn’t seem to weigh anything to her. The screams of the public are intensifying as her battlecry rocks the stage. Alune is already expecting the collision of the blade, her whole body tense in anticipation. The noxian raises the weapon against her enemy, he tries to stand but by the time the axe falls down—

—her vision goes white.

_ “No! What—”  _ The fog clouds her eyes but the audience howls with unrestrained excitement. White like nothing, the blur and the figures are translucent and greyed out. She looks at her brother and her face is red and flushed with anger.  _ “Did you have to look away right that instant, you bean?” _

He pays her no mind, not even a reaction to her half-assed insult. Looking to a particular spot, way beyond the fighting pit, Aphelios’ eyes don’t move one inch away.

On the opposite side of the grandstands, there is an exclusive balcony. It’s just high enough to provide a perfect view of the entire coliseum. It’s adorned with a red velvet curtain ruffled at its sides, concealing its interior but not enough to hide who sits in it. Comfortably settled on his throne is Sett, his silhouette defined by his huge body and the distinct mane of his coat. His two lieutenants stand proudly behind his back, posing as the terrifying wardens they are.

Alune looks back at her brother, who’s still lost in thought. She can feel something pressing against her ribs, but Aphelios’ emotions are so conflicted not even  _ she  _ can tell what it is. She can’t run away from the stirring anxiety, when this stuff keeps happening. Her suspicions are all over the place and she doesn’t want to jump to any conclusion so rashly, but at the same time, it’s starting to be  _ too  _ obvious.

_ “Still with me?”  _ she asks. The teasing in her tone is a surprise, but she doesn’t dislike it.

Aphelios blinks awake from his daydream. The noise around them has died down considerably—that might’ve been the reason why he didn’t hear her before—and the only thing that’s audible is the announcer’s voice broadcasting the results of the fight.

The noxian raises her hand in the air victoriously. The spectacle is over and the soldier celebrates triumphant above her rival’s body for one last moment of glory. Meanwhile, the crowd sits back down after the rush is over, while the others leave their seats with pained expression over the loss of their champion.

Aphelios goes back down the stairs. Alune is surprised to see he isn’t looking for a place to sit, but instead is returning to the hallways below the grandstands. Her vision goes white again and the noise of the audience deafens. These corridors are long and barely lit by the small gaps left in the walls and the torches framed above them. Her body is pulled by him as he keeps walking towards a very specific location.

He isn’t the type to wander off without telling her. For a moment there’s silence, until the pit’s show makes noise once again.

A new match is announced, she can hear the booming voice somewhere around her. The only moment when the crowd ever goes silent. It rumbles with enthusiasm when there’s a hype of a new battle. The noise is just as loud as ever and the ceiling of the hall rattles above them as the spectators celebrate. Sett has cultivated a good business and knows very well how to keep it going.

_ “Do you think it’s an appropriate time to meet up with him?”  _ she asks. There aren’t any intentions behind this question but she hopes it’ll give her some answers.

He only shrugs.

Guess that’s all she’s getting from him. It does nothing but fuel her doubts. She decides not to ask anything else but she’s not a big fan of this dynamic, secret or not, it’s starting to annoy her.

As he walks down this very familiar path, Alune can’t help but  _ feel  _ the solitude of it. There’s not a living soul here, a noticeable contrast compared to the multitude that is just outside these tunnels. Seems even somber, how empty it is, not even a single soldier guarding it. It is the only way towards Sett’s seat, after all. She’s sure nobody has business with the Boss when the show starts, that is, unless it’s to ask for a fight.

The entrance to Sett’s private balcony is similarly unguarded. It’s like he’s purposefully daring people to step in this direction. A challenge that is met with respect. The edges of the door shape into view and the colors become vivid as Aphelios’ steps get closer and closer, leaving nothing but an echo behind them.

His balled fist hesitates right before touching the door. He doesn’t knock yet, Alune feels a small bit of fear nestled in his stomach, like a snake just about to choke his guts. Alune also has second thoughts about this, but in the end she leaves this decision to her brother, expectant about the outcome of his actions.

The door opens before he can make up his mind—“I’ll be as fast as I can,” says the person who pushes it open—and Aphelios stays petrified on the spot. A woman wearing a dark outfit and a belt full of blades steps out. She’s still looking behind her as someone speaks inside the room. Alune smiles when she sees Neira’s long mane of hair. Out of Sett’s two lieutenants, this is the one she likes the most.

Sadly, as she turns around she jumps out of her skin when she sees Aphelios standing right there next to her. Both hands flinch towards her blades, but Neira recognizes him before committing to any damage.

“Holy shit, don’t  _ do  _ that,” she says, putting a hand on her chest as she takes a long breath. “It’s been a while since we last saw you man, what’s up?”

Aphelios gives her a thumbs up, but says nothing else. Neira nods as she holds back a laugh, patting his shoulder with short and gentle taps.

“Right.” A chuckles leaver her as she shakes her head. “You here to see the boss? To be honest, I don’t think it’s a good time—he’s not in the best mood.”

Alune doesn’t say it, but she counts this as a victory for her. She crosses her arms and doesn’t hide the shit-eating grin that spreads all across her face. Her brother, however, doesn’t seem convinced about Neira’s words. He points towards the door again and Neira raises an eyebrow and if Alune dares to guess, she even looks a little shocked about it as well. At least Alune’s not the only one thinking this is a strange attitude coming from him.

“Alrigh’, if you insist.” She gives a soft knock on the door right before opening it again. She only peeks her head inside, receiving no answer in return. Aphelios cranes his neck to take a quick look but Neira has barely slid the gate open. Alune drops her crossed arms and purses her lips.

Even if Sett was in a good mood it makes no sense to be here in the first place. They always meet up after the fights are over. Especially because participating in them is part of their deal.

“Boss?” asks Neira with a more serious tone. The thump in Aphelios chest almost breaks through her own ribcage. “Your favorite moon-crazy pal is here to see you.”

Alune snorts in cue, covering her mouth with her hands. Aphelios takes a deep breath, face going red and the only reaction is letting out a  _ long  _ sigh that might be a little too dramatic.

“The  _ hell  _ does he want now?” the edge to Sett’s voice is unexpected, though. Alune’s smile completely vanishes at this reaction. Neira was not kidding when she said he was worked up about something.

An agonic pain pierces her chest as if she had been broken in two. She puts a hand right above her heart, just making sure she hasn’t been stabbed for real. When her chest seems unharmed, she traces this feeling back to her brother; she looks at him, about to ask about it but she’s surprised to find the hurt written in his eyes.

Neira scoffs. “Well, it’s not like he  _ told  _ me…” and she looks back at Aphelios, waiting for an answer.

He stays quiet and the only response is the shake of his head as he looks away, waving one of his hands to dismiss the issue.

“And?” she hears Sett say from behind the door.

The frown on Neira’s face is only visible for a second right before her brother turns on his heel and walks away. Alune’s world turns to white again.

_ “Care to explain what that was?”  _ asks Alune, trying to step in front of Aphelios’ body, floating just above the ground.

Her brother shrugs. He doesn’t meet her eyes as he walks. From this place she can see behind his back, but there’s nothing but white, heavy fog.

She’s about to say something but her brother’s steps get slower as he signs.

_ Wanted to see him,  _ he says.

Like a slap to her cheek, Aphelios’ response only leaves her speechless. This is new.

_ “Why?”  _ Her voice is quiet, careful. Her shock is replaced by concern.

_ Your vision,  _ he signs and then shrugs again, a habit of his that she remembers from long ago, only when he’s in a sour mood.

Then again, Alune’s visions are almost never certain. She has many, all the time, calls from the Moon that aren’t always correct to answer. Aphelios  _ knows  _ this, so he shouldn’t be following one of them unless Alune has explicitly said it’s a safe route.

But there’s the issue with his feelings. The ones Alune can’t decipher and the ones that Aphelios hides from her. She scoffs, hugging herself and retreating to the safety of her brother’s body. She’s ready to list off the complaints about this behaviour and how it’s making their job more difficult. Demand the answers she needs about everything. But Aphelios turns around with wide eyes.

“Phel! Wait up—goddammit, you walk so fast—I didn’t know it was  _ you  _ back there.” And Alune should be more worried about how clear Sett’s voice sounds or the vividness of his image, but thinks nothing of it, having something a lot more  _ interesting  _ to pick on.

_ “‘Phel’?”  _ she repeats. Alune would be grinning in awe had she been outside of his body. Aphelios flinches at that accusation and there’s that annoyance burning his chest once again.

She missed out on something  _ huge. _

The answer to her distress gets even  _ more  _ obvious.

“You ain’t walking out on me like that, didja’ need something?” he asks, pushing a strand of hair away from his eyes.

Her brother stays still as he signs,  _ Not really. _

There’s a scowl in Sett’s face that only gets worse when he hears Aphelios’ response. “Did you just bring me outta here to waste my—” He shuts his mouth in a snap and closes his eyes. Rubs his temple in slow circles, right before opening his eyes again. “You know what? Let’s just talk later.”

Aphelios nods slowly. Sett sighs, his shoulders drop with relief.

“Actually, you got perfect timing,” he says while grinning at him. “I have a job for you, if you’re interested.”

Aphelios doesn’t show it, but he’s intrigued about it as he raises his hands.  _ Go on,  _ he says.

“Just scouting.” Sett gets a little closer as he eyes the corridor warily. He puts a hand on his shoulder and pulls him towards him as he whispers, “I’d rather have you outta the arena for now, anyway.”

Knowing how reluctant her brother is with violence, it doesn’t come off as a surprise to see him nodding eagerly at the proposal. Sett only smiles, their close proximity makes this a lot more…  _ intimate  _ than it has been between them before. Sett’s eyes are tender, it makes her uncomfortable to look at him directly in the eye, but Sett doesn’t hold that gaze for longer than a few seconds.

“It’s good to have you back,” he whispers. “You doing okay?”

Aphelios nods again, and the nervousness blooms back in his chest while his eyes briefly look up to Sett’s ears, one of them twitching downwards.

“Missed me much?” A cocky grin spreads on Sett’s face and Aphelios rolls his eyes.

There’s another conversation hidden behind the words they’re saying, like they both know what the other means without making it obvious. Alune doesn’t have the audacity to pry, less when she knows it’ll be awkward for all people present. She could look away but the chaos in her brother’s feelings keeps her attention, of the hurricane of emotions that barely make any sense to her. She can barely put her focus on  _ one  _ of them, but there’s bitterness and affection and fear; Aphelios doesn’t react to any of them, his face and posture serene as if there wasn’t a catastrophe happening inside him.

Alune has never loathed the Noctum’s symptoms more than today.

But at the same time, there’s something more there. It’s unnatural. But there’s a phantom side of his demeanor that’s too emotional. Her brother says nothing to Sett’s question, but their eyes have been locked into each other for far too long. Sett chuckles at his silence and his ears twitch again—and she’s surprised to see the vision sparking to life—as Sett’s hand squeezes Aphelios shoulder with an unusual gentleness. She knows Aphelios recognizes it too, the burn in his stomach and the heat on his cheeks is proof enough of his embarrassment. He looks away for the first time since they started talking, his muscles tensing as he tried to hold a smile of his own while he plays with the strap of his bag.

An abnormal outcome. The vision was right.

The emptiness of the hallway becomes obvious when the sound of someone's steps come closer towards them. Aphelios and Sett take notice of Neira’s presence a little too late, making their sudden distancing blatantly awkward. It takes them all by surprise, Alune included, and it amazes her how distracted this exchange had made her brother, to the point he completely failed to notice someone walking down an  _ empty _ aisle.

Sett has taken his hand back in a jerk, his expression sharp and even a little irritated. His frown comes back the instant Neria walks next to them. She continues on her way without looking.

“Whatever, meet me after the matches are over, I ain’t got time to chit-chat right now,” he says, his tone a complete one-eighty from the one he used before. He doesn’t even let Aphelios say anything in return as he walks back towards his balcony.

If Alune thought she was speechless before, Sett takes the win for the most unexpected act someone has improvised on the spot. Now this made it obvious that this was  _ supposed  _ to be something personal for him, and Alune wonders if he would’ve acted the same way if he knew she had been here the whole time. Why he wouldn’t be expecting her along with her brother is a different question.

_ “How thoughtful,”  _ says Alune’s voice in a tiny whisper. _ “I don’t remember him being this nice.” _

Aphelios bolts at the sound of her voice as if he’s been zapped with lightning.

_ “What’s that?”  _ She can’t help it.  _ “Did you forget you had company?” _

He shakes his head and walks in the opposite direction, right where Neira had also taken her leave. Alune stays quiet but she won’t lie, this is fun. She doesn’t remember when was the last time she had something to poke at to annoy him. Lately, nothing seemed to faze him, but now this proved he was still the same awkward boy she grew up with. 

And the same one who couldn’t hide a crush to save his life.

Leaving his shell once again, she floats mindlessly as her brother drags her spirit around. A huge smile on her face.

As they return to the grandstands, Neira is standing there waving her arms in different ways to the announcer standing in the arena. When she sees Aphelios walking up to her, joy paints a smile on her face. She claps a hand against his back as he stops at her side.

“What was that back there, man?” She puts her hands on her hips while trying to hide a laugh. “I didn’t want to make it weird but  _ damn,  _ I didn’t think you had it in you.”

_ “Oh, please, you should’ve seen him when we were younger,”  _ says Alune, if only to annoy him.  _ “What an uncontrollable flirt.” _

He looks confused. Alune doesn’t know if it is her fault or Neira’s but when there’s no reaction, she just smiles and looks away. “Or maybe you’re just lucky, ‘cause any other day I would’ve seen you out of the pit before you had a chance to say a word.”

There’s a dip in his stomach when she says this, but it’s gone in a second before Alune has the chance to pick it up.

Neira punches his shoulder softly. “You’re tough guy, I get it, but it’s better not to gamble like that when he’s pissed off, trust me.” She loops her arm around Aphelios’ and guides him down the stairs. “When I started working here I got on his nerves  _ all  _ the time, but we sparred to blow the steam off and ended up bonding over it—I never beat him, obviously—but it was really fun back then.”

Alune nods without taking her eyes off her.

Aphelios mimics her actions and Neira’s smile lights up. She gets close to him, almost as much as Sett had been before, whispering something in secrecy. But the air is cold and unfeeling. There’s nothing here that sparks that flame in her brother’s heart.

“Not to brag, but he taught me some sick moves,” her smile is still there as she balls her hand into a fist. “It’s a shame I’ve never had the chance to show them off, you know?”

Alune scoffs.  _ “What a subtle threat, I see.” _

This exchange is not meant for her, but she feels included in it. Especially when Neira winks at her brother, she forgets this woman has no idea Alune even exists. Rational thoughts aside, Alune lets herself fantasize that she’s in the world of the living for a second.

“Anyways, d’you wanna watch the games with me?” Her voice gets lost in the sound people yelling for more bloodshed. “It’s only a few more, and I can’t imagine you doing anything else to kill time besides this.”

_ “I’d love to,”  _ Alune answers, despite being invisible to her eye. Her brother gives her a skeptical side-eye and she clears her throat, a blush gently covering her cheeks.  _ “I mean, I don’t see why we should not.” _

Aphelios nods on her behalf without questioning. He follows Neira as she unlinks their arms and leads the way down the stairs. She generously offers a seat close to the arena, right in the exclusive tier reserved for Sett’s special guests. Neira finds a great spot for them to sit and Alune rejoices at the deserted space. However, Neira doesn’t seem invested that much in the matches, as her eyes drift off towards the audience and its surroundings more often than not.

Technically she’s still working, so Alune can’t really judge, but it’s still a little  _ strange. _

_ “I wonder what made Sett so upset.”  _ Alune wonders aloud, not really hoping to get an answer, but also not voicing her second—and more obvious—concern, which involved her brother and the things she’s seen in the future. Now as she comes down her high, her anxiety comes back tenfold.

Her brother takes his hand to his coat, pulling from one of its pockets a tiny and worn-out travel book. Once, when he bought this from a piltovan shop, the pages were starking white and the leather of the cover was perfectly sewn. Now, as he writes on the yellowed paper, they notice the pen is running out of ink. Years have passed since they left those shores. Of the few hallmarks that remind them how long they’ve stayed in Ionia.

Aphelios shakes the pen and from the corner of his eye, Alune can see Neira watching with curiosity.

Raising the paper to Neira’s eye level, Aphelios’ words are clear: ‘Why is he so angry?’

Neira grins. “Let’s say someone who’s not  _ me  _ got on his nerves.”

He only nods back, but unlike her brother, Alune is burning with interest. It’s obvious that there’s something more to this story than what she lets on. Not that she wants to pry, but she knows that this must be something that has his brother mixed up in it. After all, Sett did run after him when he had confused him with someone else.

“Why the sudden interest?” she asks, right before the audience yells in unison when a new match starts. Aphelios’ heart beats faster but he remains impassive. “It’s not like you ain’t seen him like that before.”

_ “Now, that’s bullshit.”  _ Alune can’t hold that one back. Aphelios’ eyes widen at her response and she would’ve laughed had this not been something concerning to her.

They’ve seen Sett angry more than once, but all those times he’s always been a very professional businessman. His emotions rarely, if not ever, have interfered with their negotiations. This time, there was no doubt he was acting entirely on emotional reactions.

Neira’s smirk gets wider and wider, she cocks an eyebrow before taking her eyes back to the arena.

“Okay, _fine,_ but I never told you any o’ this, you hear me?” She looks down at her nails. Alune bites down on her lip and scoots over just a little close to hear her. “It’s just some dumb client of ours that keeps asking for _something_ he don’t wanna give him.”

A cold reminder. The memories of the night they spoke with Yan come back right to slap her in the face. A part of her was convinced they were playing with fire when coming here, going against what they were told. But there was something else, Sett’s behavior, Aphelios secrecy. There was something else.

“And you know what? I’m starting to understand why.” Another wink. She looks away after saying that, proud of herself for an unknown reason.

The questions kept piling up. She blames herself for getting so careless, playing around all this time when she was supposed to be looking for clues. That’s her part.  _ That’s her part.  _ She looks at Aphelios—hoping to see anything that could lead her on—but she only saw the same confusion written all over his face.

The world becomes a blur again. Neira disappears as the fog replaces her, Aphelios is looking somewhere else, obviously, not focused on what he’s seeing but lost in thought. Something’s stirring in his stomach. A dizzying feeling in his belly as fear replaces his muddle thoughts. They are both thinking the same, of the warnings the Vastaya parted them with, but there’s also something else: a throbbing worry that makes his heart ache.

_ “I don’t think we should’ve come here,”  _ she says. Aphelios jolts awake, once again forgetting she was here with him. Alune can’t laugh at this one. Their silence is too uncomfortable, and scary all the same.

“Yo!” Neira grabs Aphelios by the arm and shakes him with excitement. “This guy’s my favorite! You’re gonna  _ love  _ this match.”

The loudness of the arena comes back full-force to her. Even as the whiteness of her surroundings doesn’t tell her much, what she can see of the fight becomes lifelike. Aphelios is shutting her away, in the way she avoids her gaze as he looks at the fights with too much interest; or the way he looks at Neira at the slightless chance he gets.

She fumbles with the connection. Aphelios’ aura is firmly closed. For the first time in her  _ whole  _ life, Alune feels she doesn’t know her brother. Doesn’t know her closest friend.

“He’s kinda new, got here a few weeks ago,” Neira says, breaking the cold-ice between the twins. “I think he always looks funny, because he  _ never  _ takes off that ridiculous hat.”

Watching the fights becomes less tedious with Neira sitting next to them. This time, Alune gets to see the ending of all of them, but she finds some of them are not as exciting as she had hoped they’d be. It’s way more interesting when Neira talks in the middle of them; about the dojo masters that brought some warriors tonight, of the Ionian officials sitting a few rows down below. Gossip of their lives and their intentions here in the pit.

She makes for a wonderful distraction. She speaks of the fighters; what brought them here, their disciplines and lifestyles; where do they come from and what their ambitions are. Neira is charming, her smile is welcoming and whenever she comes up with a joke, Alune laughs with her.

This is why she likes hanging out with Neira so much. It’s always about that twist at the end of a story. When she’s talking about a fighter's affair with one of the guards; or how another secretly has a kid and a wife she hasn’t told her parents about or of that one man that has been after Sett’s throne but always chickens out whenever he means to challenge him.

Despite the good company, Alune’s concern doesn’t go away.

The last match comes to an end and her head is spinning with questions, about her brother, about Sett; the Rebellion’s waning and the imminent danger that hangs over their heads. Suddenly details matter more, like what was Diana doing with the Vastaya in the first place? And what could’ve possibly been so important to hurry back to Navori? She should’ve never trusted Yan to tell them enough.

Aphelios groans as he touches his forehead. The heaviness of her thoughts burden him just as much, but he only suffers from the headaches. The easier part to deal with. 

As they leave their seats, they walk in the opposite direction to exit the coliseum. There are some that look their way, and for brief moments Alune can see the fear in their eyes as Neira makes a way for them among the crowd. Leaving behind the hallways leading towards the grandstands, they enter through a different corridor. This time, it’s heavily guarded by Sett’s employees.

This side of the Pit isn’t new for them, but Sett always sends any of his two lieutenants to escort them in personally. Neira is the type that greets the guards with long friendly pats on their shoulders, or makes small talk as they pass them by. The last guard ends up talking with her, just as she waves Aphelios goodbye—not without winking at him one last time—with a huge wide-open smile. 

With the doors locked behind them, Aphelios continues on his own. Alune’s environment is swarming with silhouettes and shapes; the cleaning staff walking in and out, carrying all types of tools and equipment to get on with their job. Some of them enter the doors that lead to the dungeons below, and Alune can’t help but wonder how big they are. She never saw the ones hiding under the monasteries back in Targon, the Lunari were incredibly secretive of those. Sometimes she’d rather not think why.

Eventually, they leave the arena’s main halls and enter the administrative side of the building. The floor and the walls change neatly. But the quietness is a thousand times more deafening than all the other times before. 

Alune can smell a venom in the air, something isn’t right.

When she takes the next breath, her mouth tastes like blood and the adrenaline rushes through her veins. She’s having another vision just as Aphelios reaches Sett’s office. The doors are closed shut, but the volume of the argument happening inside is audible even to Alune’s deaf environment.

_ “Stop,”  _ she says, her eyes closed. Aphelios follows her command instantly. His body is dead still on the spot as he awaits the next order.

The vision unfolds before her eyes, an alternate turn of events that are colliding with this reality. It stays out of her grasp, but she can see all of it happen in just a second. She smiles as she opens her eyes and Aphelios is unharmed, instead of recoiling in pain at one of the many slashes from that man’s sword.

_ “Wait here,”  _ she murmurs. Aphelios does as told and lays back against the wall with crossed arms.

Just in time for the doors to slam open as an unintelligible yell comes from inside the room. A tall man with a blue tattoo across his face walks out. His face is red and the anger leaks off him like poison. Alune can sense the energy emanating from the weapon he carries, the noxian runes written along the edge glow bright green as if to emphasize her point.

“The  _ fuck  _ you staring at, idiot, you lookin’ for a fight?” he asks, gripping the hilt of his blade hanging from his back and swinging it towards Aphelios.

Alune’s belly dips down in fear. She conjures the weapons out of thin air in one swift spell, returning to his body to infuse him with her magic. Aphelios’ posture changes in a quick motion . Feeling the Moon’s power enveloping their bodies, they both know this routine by second nature. Alune prays for her brother, as she always does, hoping he’ll be protected from harm.

“Hey!” Sett’s voice resounds particularly loud for her, as said man turns the fighter around and pushes him off his feet with  _ one  _ hand, sending him across the floor. “What part of ‘get outta here’ didn’t go through your thick head? Fuck off!”

The fighter stands without saying one more word, ducking his head in submission. He picks his sword from the ground and scoffs at her brother as he stomps his way out.

Alune sighs with relief.  _ “Thank the Moon we’re on Sett’s good side.” _

Sett looks far more upset than she had seen him before, his ears sit back against his hair and it reminds her of the angry wolves in the caves of Targon. Aphelios isn’t looking at him, though, instead he’s still in a fighting stance. He’s staring at the fighter’s retreating figure, that view is crisp for her: the colors of the hallway, the shadows the lamps are casting on the floor; the strangers back and his sword resting there as he walks away.

But then again, Sett’s face isn’t blacked-out or translucent like the ones she’s used to seeing. She knows she sees more when she’s not outside of his body but this is a little overkill.

“You’re not hurt, right?” Sett asks, placing a hand on Aphelios’ back. “I swear on  _ god,  _ sometimes it’s like I’m working with real animals.”

Her brother’s nerves spike up, but just like before, his reaction is non-existent. He shakes his head and signs a short ‘ok’ with one hand.

“You better, or I’ll kick his ass.” Sett chuckles as he leads them inside the room. Aphelios lets him do it willingly, and Alune pretends she doesn’t notice the hand on her brother’s back that he doesn’t shake off.

Sett closes the doors behind them and Alune separates from her brother before she regrets it. Hoping this isn’t gonna cause an uncomfortable situation between them.

When Sett turns around and his eyes land on her—“What the  _ fuck,” _ —he jumps a mile away from the ground, his hair all puffed out. “Oh, it’s just  _ you,  _ Alune,” he says, a hand atop his chest as it rises and falls with quick breaths.

She snorts.  _ “I do not remember being this terrifying.” _

“Don’t get funny with me, young lady.” He flashes a smile at her before he starts laughing. “You straight-up appeared outta thin air.” He shakes his head and pats his frizzled hair, fixing it back down.

_ “Oh, were you not expecting me?”  _ She asks, innocently laying a death trap in that question.

“I didn’t say that.” Sett’s smile doesn’t go away. “You two are my favorite guests.”

One more favored than the other, but Alune resists the urge to say that. Sett stretches his arms and walks back to his desk on the other end of the room. He has a tray with small little cakes almost half-empty on top of it, next to it, papers and scrolls are scattered across the table. Aphelios follows that trail to the floor, where boxes with some of his accounting books and employee files remain unorganized. The place is a mess. At the far right side of the room it’s Sett’s old couch—of the few things without stuff on it—and Aphelios makes a bee-line for it.

He has told her how comfortable it is. It’s not on the pretty side, but it’s the best thing he has sat on. Sett keeps saying he wants to change it for something fancier—this one was brought from Noxus as a gift when he took over the pit—but Alune knows that he doesn’t have the heart to get rid of it, judging from the fact that it’s still here every time they return.

It has a thin blanket and a pillow tousled on its side. Maybe Sett likes it more than he wants to admit.

Alune’s heart beats faster out of nowhere. She looks at her brother with annoyance but before she has the chance to complain, she realizes this isn’t his fault.

“How’s the spirit-land treating you?” asks Sett while sitting back on his chair. He takes one cake and bites off almost half of it.

She dismissed her uneasiness and smiles.  _ “No supernatural sightings besides me, I suppose.” _

But her magic had other plans.

Deafening screams and a short wave of heat coursing through her fingers. The cold air of winter chills the rest of her body.

She doesn’t remember feeling so much pain from the connection with her brother.

_ Holding Calibrum in both hands, her brother aims towards an unknown point in the darkness. He has already taken the shot. But the vision feels incomplete, as if someone had ripped a page of a story book. Aphelios is seeing something, though, despite there being nothing but a pitch black film covering it for her. His heart is racing madly and the fears nestles in his stomach almost instantly. But there’s nothing else. _

“Hmm,” A simple hum rips the vision away from her hands, like someone has pulled her out of the water. “Are there any spirits here with us tonight?” asks Sett in a mumble, eyes closed and palms looking up as he’s still sitting on his desk.

Her stress vanishes for that second and she can’t hide the tiny giggles that escape her. On the other side, Aphelios’ aura is heavy over her own. When she looks at him, he’s been staring at her and arches an eyebrow. Seems he’s not the only one acting strangely lately.

Sett hums again. “If you are among us, show us a sign—”

_ “Oh my goodness!”  _ Alune crosses her arms as she looks away from her brother, to look at Sett instead.  _ “Do you ever stop?” _

Sett raises his hands in surrender and his smile only gets wider. “Have you met me? I never shut up.”

He lays back on his chair and Alune sighs, shaking her head in disapproval but she can never truly get mad at him.

“Anyway, here’s the thing.” He picks up a single stack of papers from the desk. Aphelios reluctantly steps up from the couch to take it. “I just need you to follow this guy, and tell me what he’s up to, that kind of thing—he’s got a long criminal record, so watch your backs.”

Alune frowns as she looks at the report her brother’s holding. The picture of said man is the exact same one Sett kicked out of his office.  _ “Isn’t he one of your fighters?” _

“If I’m right about him, he won’t be anymore.” Sett sighs, a tired expression making an appearance on his face. “I don’t like tailing my men, whatever they do outside my ring is none o’ my business.”

Aphelios flips the pages one by one.

“He’s just becoming a problem, you know? And I’m just looking for an excuse to kick his ass out.” She notices the dip below his eyebrows, a tiny grimace that reminds her of their previous encounter in the coliseum’s hallway. “Besides, he’s putting his head in places it don’t belong and that’s rubbing me the wrong way.”

_ “He does seem like a troublemaker.”  _ She’ll admit that the first impression surely made them understand what kind of man he was.

“Don’t try to confront him, when he’s out for blood he goes fuckin’ nuts.” He sighs again, and rubs a hand across his face. “He’s good at knocking people out, I can’t really complain about that.”

Just as he says this, Alune can see the tiredness in his eyes. He’s picking at one of his nails—oddly  _ long,  _ almost claw-like—but she doesn’t think she’s ever seen them like that. Sett’s a fighter, longer nails would only mean a hindrance when using his fists.

Before she can make a comment on it, Sett raises his eyes and gives them both a smile. “Alrigh’, that’s all.” He stretches his arms upwards and even his ears follow that same direction. “We can meet up back at the house down the hill, I gotta go check on some stuff there kinda-right now.”

A sudden spike of nerves travels down from head to toe and interrupts her thought process. She bites her tongue not to bring attention to it since Sett is right here, but she’s definitely upset by it. Aphelios simply nods, like his sister isn’t suffering the consequences of his repressed feelings.

“Leave this with me,” he says as he stands pulling at Aphelios’ bag strap off his shoulder. “I’m not staying for long anyway, you remember where it is, right?”

_ “Yes, he does,”  _ she replies without a beat. Sett seems oddly  _ surprised  _ at that, and his ears flicker nervously. Not the reaction she was looking for but that works for her.

“Great,” he says and pats Aphelios’ shoulder awkwardly as her brother turns around towards the exit.

Alune can see the office doors, the wooden walls and the details on each plank. All Aphelios sees, she can do as well—given that he  _ is  _ looking at them—and she’s come to terms at this point; if Aphelios turns around, she does too; if he looks up, she follows his gaze, and so on. This is just one of the many things they share now. She has lost the habit of looking at things on her own. But when she turns around, something has already told her what she’ll see.

Lo and behold, Sett’s shape is defined perfectly against the dull background that she can barely make out.

She smiles and waves him goodbye, a gesture that Sett returns as he watches them leave.

“Be careful,” he says from where he sits and disappears once Aphelios walks out of the room.

She’s just as quiet as her brother and for the hundredth time that night, astonished.

_ “My, my, it’s as if I’ve skipped an entire chapter in a novel, care to fill me in?”  _ She waits for an answer but Aphelios ignores the question.

She laughs.

_ “Phe-el,”  _ she sign-songs.  _ “You literally cannot outrun me.” _

Aphelios stops. He sighs, takes a deep breath and looks at her.  _ Not now. _

_ “Fine, I’ll hold you to that.”  _ As he resumes his quiet stroll, she squeaks and smiles.  _ “I hope you’re not stalling.” _

No reaction, just a purse of his lips as he takes another turn.

A pulse over her heart shakes her whole body. Luckily for her, Aphelios is very focused on where he’s going to notice the abrupt change in her expression. The feeling of the vision she had minutes prior returns, the turmoil in her head almost palpable. Without a second thought, she retreats back the safety of the fortress. She’s welcomed by the empty foyer in the centre of the temple.

It’s better like this. Aphelios doesn’t need a baby-sitter, he can take care of himself for the few minutes it takes her to solve this problem. There’s no need to burden him with the complexity of her thoughts. He has enough on his plate.

She stands from her sitting spot and her dress slides across the floor as she walks outside. The Moon, always present in the sky, watches diligently over her and this realm. Whenever she looks up, the chills run down her spine. The Moon looks just like she remembers, but sometimes she can see a bizarre copy of it overlaying over the other. To this day she hasn’t figured out what it means. Sometimes, the constellations change out of nowhere; other nights she feels as if  _ someone  _ was watching her. One of the few reminders that she’s just a visitor in this place.

Mount Targon was far from being ordinary, of course, but the Lunari rarely left the safety of their caves. Especially during the festivals, they never approved of those who sneaked out to enjoy the holidays and partake in the celebration. Something that she and her brother did only  _ once  _ and will always and forever remain a secret. She was a very unruly student before she had to attend her destiny, but never regrets the things she did—and the ones she forced Aphelios to do alongside her—yet, Alune wishes she had had a chance to see  _ more. _

Now she wonders if the Marus Omegnum can be trusted to replicate the mountain as it was. If the skies are full of so many colors at night or if there were pools of magical crystalized water; if there were places where the grass was pale blue or the pine trees had glowing white leaves and pink trunks.

The only thing that truly reminds her of home is the moonlight that casts over every single inch of this place. Her kind embrace is the same and that’s Alune’s only consolation.

In the middle of her walk out, the whispers of the spirit world blow coldly at her soul. Most of the time, these are things that keep her company when she parts ways with her brother momentarily, not malicious entities, just peculiar ones. However, as her fear returns and the vision leaves residual shocks of anxiety, she’s tempted to follow them.

There’s that rushed beating of her heart, but it doesn’t matter how many times she tries grasping for answers, her magic doesn’t show her anything else. She hears another sound, the howling of the wind finally taking a direction. It pushes her body and she obediently tags along. It’s the lake, crystal-clear and perfectly still.

Her hand touches the surface and her fingers light up with tiny sparkles. Her reflection distorts as the ripples travel along the water. That calling, the one she avoids for her own good, traps her in its clutches.

There’s a powerful source of magic blooming inside her—something familiar, but she can’t quite put her finger on it—her mouth tastes sweet and the feeling spreads through her body like poison. It’s painful, though, the embrace of the water is cold but not freezing, slowly traveling up her hand with gentleness. It makes her feel like she weighs nothing and the fortress can’t cage her anymore. Who would’ve thought something so powerful was sitting right next to her this whole time.

Closing her eyes, she retraces her steps. She looks back to the moment she had those visions and pulls at them again, trying to bring them back from the nebulous nothingness of the universe. 

Plain as day, she can see Aphelios shooting Calibrum with practiced aim, the precision of the shot is dead on its target: one dagger that flies off her hand when the bullet collides with it.

Alune looks down and her hand is burning, the residue of the moonstone magic that flows down her fingers. She’s not looking through her brother’s eyes, instead it’s his opponent she’s looking from. This person raises their eyes to look at him. They’re full of terror and grief. Whoever this is, Alune can feel the pain when they locate Aphelios’ distinct shape aiming at them.

Unsatisfied with this she tries again, conjuring the vision once more. A headache comes back, a pulse over her forehead that grows worse when she keeps summoning that future to no use. Frustrated with her limited powers she grasps at whatever she can. It didn’t matter what point in time, as long as she could trace it back to her revelation in Sett’s office.

A short image of the past appears but she can’t see it from Aphelios’ perspective. She’s looking through Xayah’s eyes as she’s questioning them about their intentions.

She moves forward.

She’s the owner of the Inn they stated after they left the Rebellion’s territory. The farmer that took them across the countryside on his humble wagon. The cook in the food-stand that sold Aphelios a pair of fried meat stakes. It goes on, nothing of importance, but she doesn’t want to skip so far off in case she misses  _ that  _ moment. Finally they arrive at the Pit and she crashes full force against a particular situation—Neira is exiting Sett’s balcony. She feels Neira’s heart racing and the murderous thought of cutting down whoever dared to sneak upon her disappears when she recognizes her brother. That all would be fine, except when it’s replaced by the need to keep him  _ close. _

She doesn’t mean to speed things up, but she does anyway and the blur of the conversation is confusing. It’s an incoherent exchange until she can pick up one thing— _ “Of course I was talking about Aphelios, you dumbass!” _ —and then Sett’s ears perking up at the sound of that name.

The  _ regret  _ written all over Sett’s face hits differently. He stands and pushes Neira out of the way and just as he crosses the threshold she’s dragged by Sett’s sprinting body as if he had grabbed her. When the source changes so harshly, she feels like she’s gonna puke. This is not her concern, but she can’t help it—Sett’s rapid-beating heart as he runs after her brother is chilling—just as she thought back then: something here is wrong.

_ Is she ever coming back? _

Who—

That voice. It prickles under her skin but something else is keeping her attention. There’s something fearful in Sett’s mind, but at the same time there’s relief. A secondary intention laying under his greeting and kind words. She pulls and pulls—she shouldn’t be looking at this but she  _ must  _ know—and somehow she’ll find out what he’s hiding.

Their close proximity, the way they don’t say a word but the intentions are laid bare. She picks that feeling up and a similar scene is happening under a cold, rainy night. She has traveled further back into the past, she knows that much, when she looks at Aphelios’ necklace: perfectly untouched and no pendants dented from his fight with the noxians.

_ Alune? _

It’s not enough, it’s not what she wants to see!

Sett’s memories are confined beyond the ones she shares with his brother. She knows there is something, somewhere. But she feels that her own brother’s perception of the world is caging her powers. Even if she tries to bulge time at her whim it won’t listen to her. She can taste the future if only a little. There’s pain and betrayal, but she doesn’t know what or  _ when  _ it happens.

That source of power is getting weaker. The sweet taste is starting to fade from her mouth and the burn in her veins is barely there anymore.

_ Lu? Where are you? _

It’s Aphelios.

She wakes up in a cold sweat. It was not the  _ lake  _ giving her those powers, she was using her own this whole time. Her eyes go wide and the horror that strikes her is beyond monstruos: her hand is trapped in the ice.

The lake’s water is almost all the way up her arm. The crystal has freezed it into place, even if she pulls to get out the shards dug on her skin. It feels like an enormous beast has sunk its teeths on her flesh. There’s no blood coming out, but the pain is inimaginable. She’s a spirit here, she knows there’s nothing that can truly destroy her form unless he lets it. Taking a breath, her brother’s voice is a reminder that she can’t let this be her demise. Her tears travel down her cheeks, but with one single pull she breaks the frozen glass, pulling herself off the death-grip of this  _ thing. _

Just as she imagined, there is no real repercussion to physical damage. There’s open scars and a red-blemish across her skin but nothing that won’t disappear with time. Her sleeve is shredded beyond repair, but it quickly reforms, as if nothing happened to it.

Her sobs fill the silence of the gardens. It made sense now, falling into the lake’s illusion had tricked her and she’d truly been using the Noctum’s primal energy. It made sense now that she couldn’t see beyond her brother’s eyes. His voice. She hadn’t heard him in  _ years.  _

It has been so long, she has forgotten what he sounds like.

And he needs her right now. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and fixes her clothes. She sits under the shadow of a tree and closes her eyes. Their connection feels frail and shaky, and a part of her hopes there’s still enough for her to project herself.

Fortunately it’s no issue.

Aphelios looks at her and there’s  _ visible  _ concern in his eyes. For a brief second she thinks she’ll hear him speak but he moves his hands instead.

_ Something wrong tonight,  _ he signs.

_ “No, no,”  _ she says.  _ “I’m okay, I’ve just been having weird visions, is all.” _

Again, her brother doesn’t ask questions, but the raised eyebrow and the dubious look are enough to tell he doesn’t really believe her. She’s surprised to see that kind reaction—far too emotional—that she’s not used to see. 

Her eyes widened. She didn’t only waste the essence, she fucked up something in its core behavior. It isn’t normal that Aphelios can look so…  _ normal.  _ It was different when she reminiscenced about it, because that’s how things were back  _ then. _

Despite everything, he still doesn’t pry. It makes the guilt heavier, for looking at his memories without permission and without any real excuse.

He moves from the place he’s standing. He’s somewhere in the main shopping area of the city, not that far from Sett’s pit. Most of the stores and businesses are already closed for the night. Only the taverns and inns are still open, one of them in particular is the focus of Aphelios’ attention. He walks through the shadows of a marketplace, blending in with the darkness in every corner. The stalls are empty and obscure, a perfect spot to stand guard. Practiced years of sneaking inside Solari temples makes this too easy for him.

In the distance, there’s one figure standing just outside the inn’s entrance. As she looks closer, she distinguishes the blue-tattooed fighter and his long broadsword with the noxian markings, still glowing but not as strong as before. Right in front of the Inn is a very small plaza, with only a few lanterns and wooden benches, surrounded by very modest looking flower bed; clearly those have seen better days, but they liven the place up.

Sitting around the vegetation and the seats, are groups of people drinking and talking. There isn’t really a big crowd, but it’s loud enough to become a distraction. The fighter is laying against one of the inn’s walls, far enough from the groups of people dancing in the plaza, having wandered off from a nearby tavern.

Alune looks at her brother one more time, right before returning to his body. She’s dying to ask him anything about the things she saw, but ultimately can never find the courage to do so. The words are stuck in the tip of her tongue and a new problem arises when there’s a sudden itch on her arm.

The lamplights in the street illuminate another individual that seems to appear out of nowhere. Her eyes hurt when her brother moves out of his hiding spot to leap through the place with quick maneuvering. The world spins around her and the pain in her eyes is doubled when she tries to focus. Her arm hurts and the edges of her brother’s vision is dimming. The fog is way thicker than usual.

Aphelios doesn’t notice it, he’s busy sneaking past the walls of different shops until he’s gracefully dropping on the inn’s roof, as close to his objective as possible. He belongs to the night, as he quietly moves without being heard, merging with the shadows.

The mysterious figure is wearing a long red cape and a silver chestplate: a noxian armor they’ve seen on the troops that stroll around some Ionian ports.

“Didn’t take you to be punctual, mister Maudry,” says the noxian as he lays back on a spot next to the fighter.

“Just use my name, weirdo,” says Maudry without even looking away from the ground. “Pay up.”

“Some manners wouldn’t hurt.” There’s a tingle of coins as the noxian hands Maudry a small leather pouch. “Not happy to see me?”

“Happy?” He straightens his back and presses a finger to the other’s chest. “Thanks to you I got my fucking  _ neck  _ on the line.”

“What?” The noxian laughs and the noise mixes with the rest of the chatter around them. “I only asked you to do  _ one  _ thing, that you messed that up it’s not on me.”

A third man—a drunk one—falls on the ground near them. His laugh is louder than any of the other voices around. Holding a drink in hand, he tries standing up but keeps falling back down, tripping on his own feet. Annoyed with the intrusion of their personal space, the noxian stranger leads Maudry to a more private place. They walk further away from the plaza and the light that illuminates the road, right into an alleyway next to the inn.

Aphelios follows them quietly from above, perched like a hawk stalking his prey. Her brother’s hyperfocus on these two people makes it easy to understand, both conversations and body language. The darkness looks sharp to her and the silhouette of both of them painted by the moonlight, look like cutouts from the background.

“He’s traveling to the Placidium in a few days,” Maudry says. “After they caught me I don’t think he’d be staying for long.”

The noxian shrugs. “Did you see what he brought with him?”

“Fuck if I know,” Maudry replies, stretching his arms above his head. He takes two steps away from the other, looking over his shoulder before continuing, “Are we done here?”

“That’s troublesome.” A pause. “But you’re not telling me everything.” That low voice chills Aphelios to the tips of his hair. Alune feels it too, crawling under her skin and it has nothing to do with the cold. “What was inside?” he asks again.

“I told you I have no  _ fuckin’  _ clue,” Maudry says. “The Boss don’t trust nobody besides his lieutenants—after what I did I’m surprised he didn’t kill me!”

“Lower down your voice.” The noxian steps closer, but Maudry keeps his distance. “Just tell me what you saw—just  _ thinking  _ about it will do.”

“Shut the fuck up!” The glow on Maudry’s sword grows wider as he places his hand on its hilt. “You ain’t telling me what to—”

Alune hears the ripping of clothes and the drowned gasp before her brother does. Of the blood dripping on the floor and the body falling limp on the ground. The red tints everything she sees but slowly, it starts turning into a bright green akin to the noxian markings on the fighter’s sword. It’s when she sees this color reflected on the killer’s eyes that she realizes it’s a vision. Afraid of wasting more of the Noctum’s essence, she turns it away.

There comes a muffled scream and a clean, simple cut.

Silence.

The inconspicuous murder. A glass bottle breaking in the distance, followed by the laughter of the people dancing in the square. The conversations keep going, their lively tones a crude reminder of the insignificance of this event. Her brother looks away, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth pulled into a grimace. He feels guilty, perhaps for not intervening, but she doesn’t really sense these feelings as much as she sees them  _ expressed _ on his face.

He looks down again, the noxian is shaking Maudry’s shoulder. He seems regretful of his actions, but after taking his pulse and confirming his death, he takes the leather pouch with the money and leaves the crime scene.

Aphelios raises his hand, asking Alune for a gun.

_ “No,”  _ she says, carefully measuring her tone.  _ “Don’t follow him.” _

Any other day Alune would’ve encouraged him to go after this lead, but right now, she knows she doesn’t have enough time in their connection to help him fight, both with her visions and with their weapons.

_ “Let’s just go back.”  _ Her smile puts him at ease, the tension leaves his body and he nods.

_ We do not interfere,  _ he signs, but the worry it’s still there.

_ “Of course, we don’t want to cause Sett any trouble.”  _ It might be an abuse of her authority, but it’s for the best.

They’re both quiet all the way back.

Walking these familiar streets doesn’t feel as nice as she remembers. Maybe it’s the itch on her arm that gets worse with each second. Aphelios does scratch his own without noticing, and Alune prays that he doesn’t suspect about it. Besides that, her headaches and dizziness disappear. She feels okay again and all would be good in the world, however, the sickly connection between them is nothing she can fix.

Usually this means they take some time apart. It helps Aphelios if he’s injured or sleep-deprived and Alune has an easier time meditating. It’s a well deserved break, but one she doesn’t want to take knowing there’s still an unresolved issue in her brother’s future.

Her arm itches again.

Stepping on this side of the city is a delight. The streets are clean, the sidewalks are lit nicely even at this late at night. When they arrive at their destination, a guard—way taller than Aphelios—greets him politely with a huge smile. Once she lets them in, she closes the gate for him. The house lights are turned on; Sett must’ve made it back before them.

He opens the door right as they reach the entrance.

“Hey, didn’t expect you back so soon.” He steps away, letting Aphelios take his shoes off. “You okay?”

Alune sighs dramatically as her spirit separates itself.  _ “We’re fine.” _

Sett laughs. “That ain’t very convincing.”

Aphelios steps out of the genkan and walks directly towards the left side of the house. He doesn’t get far without Sett following closely behind. She lets Aphelios drag her, and with her new-found  _ ability  _ to see Sett without his help, she turns around and keeps talking to him.

_ “You were right about him,”  _ she says, crossing her arms.  _ “He was working for a noxian soldier.” _

“That  _ rat.”  _ He sighs and his ears lean down against his hair again. “I’ll break his face next time I see him.”

_ No need,  _ signs Aphelios. He swipes his index finger across his throat right before properly signing the words.  _ Dead now. _

Sett’s eyes go wide. His ears perk up but they keep twisting in different directions as if trying to listen to any noise. He eyes the door and takes quick peeks to their surroundings before raising a single finger above his lips. He looks at Alune as well showing her the same thing. She nods, pretending to zip her mouth close. He hesitates with what he wants to say now, but Alune is nothing but  _ shocked  _ when he finally makes a specific hand posture.

_ Explain?  _ He signs while mouthing the word, rather slow but understandable.

Aphelios is as surprised as Alune, but he recovers way faster than her.  _ Met with a noxian—talking about a man traveling to Placidium. _

She doesn’t miss Sett’s subtle flinch at that revelation. He squeezes his eyes, using his fingers to rub the bridge of his nose.

_ noxian was asking what that man had brought here,  _ he continues when Sett opens his eyes again, speeding a little bit.  _ And noxian killed Maudry when he didn’t tell. _

Sett frowns.  _ Did h-he _ — _ see you?  _ He asks, clearly inexperienced with changing gestures as fast as they do. Aphelios shakes his head and Sett visibly relaxes. “That’s all?”

_ “Yes.”  _ Alune gets close to him as she whispers,  _ “It got out of hand before we could do anything about it.”  _

“Don’t worry ‘bout that, it’s just—” Sett sighs again as he brushes a hand across his face. “I should’ve gotten  _ rid of him _ the second he stepped out of my office.”

Sett’s steps are short as he walks. Aphelios follows him as he goes in the living room, circling one of the couches with a slow stride, before flopping down on the comfort of the cushions. She’s never seen Sett act like this and it kills her to be so powerless. She had felt his distress in one of her visions—she could tell he  _ cared  _ for her brother—but she was in the dark about the reason that caused it. It gnawed at her, she wanted to share this with Aphelios, but another side of her argued she couldn’t trust his judgement right now. Especially when he looks so afflicted by Sett’s mood.

Choosing to sit as well, Aphelios takes a seat on a different couch next to Sett’s. Alune mimics her brother’s actions, floating right next to him and crossing one leg over the other. In the centre of the room is a low tea table, adorned with a small flower vase. Right next to it, lay a small pile of letters and a plate of cookies that Aphelios seems certainly interested in. It’s almost full, but Sett has clearly been eating them by himself.

Aphelios looks up after a second and she does as well, following his gaze. She’d argue her capacity to sense Aphelios’ emotions was almost non-existent right now, but this feeling is so  _ strong  _ she can feel his chest squeezing his heart when he finds Sett already looking at him with a mellow smile.

“All yours,” he says, unprompted. He wipes something off his shoulder as he looks away from them, but Alune knows he’s just playing it cool to avoid eye contact. “I’ve already had enough.”

That’s a fat lie, the plate is more than half-full. Her brother doesn’t take one second to doubt him, he dives in to take not one, but two of them and eats each in  _ one  _ bite. Alune holds a laugh but her snort is loud enough.

_ “Calm down, you animal,”  _ she says with a smirk.  _ “What, is something around here making you feral?” _

Instead of getting a deadpan expression or a dismissive shrug, Aphelios  _ looks  _ embarrassed. He shoots her an irked look, before chewing slower. Next time he grabs a cookie, he takes a much smaller and moderate bite. She doesn’t hide her surprise, instead looking at Sett to see his reaction, but sadly he’s completely lost in thought.

Her brother reaches for another cookie, carefully avoiding the letters as he takes it out. Even though there are crumbs already dusting the surface.

_ “That is a lot of unopened mail you have there,”  _ She says, pointing towards the stack.

He jolts back to reality and looks at her with a smile. “Ah, yeah, I pick this up every week,” He reaches for one of the closed envelopes and eyes it without interest. “Someone just gathers all this stuff and brings it here, but it’s mostly garbage.”

The one in his hand has a fancy wrapping. He rips it open without care and doesn’t look at the message’s contents for more than five seconds. He tosses it aside and continues with the next one. The process is methodical, he’s done this a hundred times before.

“Whatever, enough about me, what’s been up with you two?” he asks, reaching for one of the closed envelopes.

_ “Oh, nothing much,”  _ Alune says. She doesn’t even bother to look at her brother as he keeps eating.  _ “We might need you to help us with a lead.” _

“Yeah? Coulda’ fooled me,” he says, grinning in her direction. “Thought you came here ‘cause you liked me.”

Alune smiles,  _ “Oh, of course Sett, you’re such a delight to be around.” _ If he only knew.  _ “I missed you dearly.” _

Sett’s laughter fills the room. He doesn’t say anything else, opening one of the letters as his chuckles die out. Alune feels a sting down her spine. She looks over to Aphelios who’s currently glaring at her while still chewing. She only cocks an eyebrow and smiles innocently.

_ Jealous?  _ she signs. The frown on her brother’s face and his clenched jaw makes it obvious.

_ You wish,  _ he responds, using only one hand.

His head whips away to the opposite direction. He’s clearly annoyed and she can’t  _ feel  _ it but it’s the redness on his cheeks and the pout on his face that discloses it. A small bit of anxiety flourishes from that insight, knowing that Aphelios probably won’t keep her around until he’s ready to leave. She’s still on the fence with this whole Sett issue, and now her only chance to get some explanations is by using her other—more human—talent; prying into someone’s life with disguised, benign intentions.

“So, what’cha got?” Sett asks, waking Alune from her train of thought.

Her smile is back on her face.  _ “I am certain Diana must be around town.”  _ She’d be lying if she said was one hundred percent sure. Navori is a huge province and when Xayah told them Diana had come back here, she had her doubts. But after everything that happened tonight, something,  _ someone _ was telling her there could only be one location. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Who did you hear this from?” Sett asks. It’s just standard procedure, Alune is choosing her words carefully, but it’s getting harder when Aphelios’ guilt is eating away at him.

_ “We met a couple close to the border of Shon-Xan,”  _ she says. Aphelios looks incredibly uncomfortable but luckily Sett is focused on her right now.  _ “My brother was injured, and while they nursed him back to health they told us they had met her just the day before.” _

“A pair of humans?” Sett wonders aloud, putting the letter he was reading on his lap. “Are ya’ sure they weren’t making it up?”

_ “Without a doubt.”  _ Alune taps her chin as she pretends to think. Putting up an act has never felt so awful to her. Aphelios’ moral compass is clashing harshly against her own, the emotions are so rampant she’s doesn’t know how he’s keeping them inside him.  _ “She told them she was coming back to Navori.” _

She doesn’t miss Sett’s subtle flinch. “It’s been a while since she’s been around here, any idea why she’d come back?”

At last, one thing she can answer truthfully.  _ “I don’t know.”  _ She puts a hair strand behind her ear.  _ “It is strange, but I’ve had plenty of visions that can confirm it.” _

That’s the first time Aphelios looks at her since she started talking.

_ “She’s here.”  _ A conclusive statement.

“If she really stepped into my city, she ain’t leaving without me knowing.” He looks away, taking interest in the mail he has yet to open. “I’ll find her.”

_ “Thank you, Sett,”  _ says Alune, giving a quick bow in gratitude.  _ “What will we ever do without you?” _

Sett chuckles. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he replies, dropping off another letter in the growing pile next to him. “I hope this isn’t an urgent kind of situation, but I’ll try getting ya’ something as soon as I can.”

Alune shakes her head.  _ “I’d appreciate it, but we can be patient.” _

“Good.” Sett’s smile doesn’t vanish, he only looks at Aphelios for a brief second before saying, “If you want, you can stay here again.”

_ “Again?”  _ Alune repeats immediately. Her smile transforms into a wicked grin as she looks at her brother, waiting to see his reaction. His face turns beet red while his finger drum nervously on top of his thigh. He chomps another cookie in his mouth to avoid the question.

Sett’s blush on the other hand, is quite the teller. “No, I—I meant to say a- _ aghen, _ it’s like an Ionian pet name.”

Alune now turns to him, mouth wide-open.

“Uh.” He swallows. “It means…  _ dipshit.” _

Everyone is quiet for a long second. Aphelios is looking at Sett with a betrayed expression, his mouth still and cheeks bloated with food. Alune is holding a laugh, covering her face with both hands, seeing through her fingers. Sett opens his mouth, doesn’t say anything, closes and opens it again; he keeps trying to vocalize something, but nothing ever comes out.

Alune can’t hold it any longer and bursts laughing, wheezing as she tries taking a breath.

This situation is hysterical.

_ “Goddess, Sett, if you had to lie for a living you would  _ starve.” She holds a hand to her mouth, as if it’d make her stop laughing.

“What?” Sett laughs alongside her and shakes his head. “No way, at least  _ he  _ fell for it.”

_ “My brother? Sett, that’s a  _ low  _ bar.”  _ She feels lighter somehow, nothing to do with magic somehow.

Despite the unusual behavior from the two of them and all the stuff she’s been through, being with Sett never fails to make her feel better even if it’s at the expense of Aphelios’ sanity. She wipes the tears from her eyes and her laughter passes after a few seconds. She looks over at her brother, who has swallowed what he had on his mouth and now is just looking at her smugly.

_ “What’s that face for?”  _ She elbows him on the waist and smiles. 

It goes right through him, but it doesn’t unsettle him like all the other times before. His smile is still there when he averts his gaze.

She clears her throat, looking at Sett once again.  _ “Staying here would be of great help, though.”  _ Sett’s ears perk up, he looks happy about that.  _ “We can save the money from the inn that way.” _

Aphelios shakes his head.  _ Let’s not impose,  _ he says, despite the fact he emptied the whole plate of cookies that he devoured himself.

“Please, you two have premium treatment.” Sett smiles at Aphelios, different from the one she showed Alune. “Lemme be a good host so you’d like to keep coming back.”

In a different world, Alune would see no problem with this offer. Often when they stop by to ask Sett for information, they take time to arrange some supplies and get some rest. Usually they pick a cheap place to stay and win a few matches in Sett’s arena, which is enough for their expenses. It’s rare that Aphelios accepts a job offer—like he did tonight—but sometimes that replaced the need to fight in the Pit. She thought that Sett had offered this place in exchange for their service, but now, she realizes she’s way,  _ way  _ off.

_ “You’re very kind, but I think Phel would rather not abuse your generosity,”  _ she says. Aphelios’ glare almost kills her.

“Please.” Sett leans towards him and props his elbow on his knees. “It don’t cost nothing to me.”

_ Not interested,  _ he replies, avoiding Sett’s pleading eyes by looking somewhere else.

“C’mon, Phel,” he begs. Alune presses her lips into a thin line, trying to hide her smile. “The house is empty all the time anyway.”

Her brother is frowning, she feels a very faint call in her mind and she knows it must be him, asking for help. She ignores it, obviously, and only awaits his response.

He sighs defeated.  _ Fine,  _ he signs with an exasperated move of his hands.

Sett’s whole face lights up and his ears flicker with excitement. “I’ll check everything’s good for you.”

_ “Thank you for your hospitality,”  _ Alune says. Aphelios body tenses instantly.

“Yeah,” Sett adds, following that with a subtle wink. “I’ve heard it’s quite my specialty.”

Putting the remaining letters off his lap, he stands and leaves the room. Alune wants to be nice, so she lets her brother off the hook for this one time. In the meantime, Aphelios picks the empty plate and takes it to the kitchen to wash it.

He takes his time, Alune looks around trying to figure out where they are, but her sense of orientation is always a mess. The way her brother navigates the house makes it obvious that this is  _ definitely  _ not the first time he’s been here. She makes no comment on it, only watches as he returns to the living room and sits back on his previous spot.

“I’ll get off your hair now, I gotta go back home before my mom figures out I’m not there,” he says, standing on the room’s doorway. Alune stays quiet, letting her brother nod in their behalf. “I’ll see you tomorrow if I’ve got anything for you.”

The hopefulness in Aphelios face is evident, even when he’s just smiling at him.

“Also, if you see that noxian,” he takes a breath and his face changes, if just slightly. “Don’t go after him, alright? You tell me first.”

_ “Oh, is it that serious?”  _ Alune chimes in.

Sett mouths twists in a frown. “Yeah, let’s say it’s a delicate issue.” He smiles again. “I just don’t wanna put you at risk.”

_ “We understand.”  _ And this seems to remind her of another promise they made just a few days ago.  _ “We’ll stay out of trouble.” _

Satisfied with this response he turns around and walks out of the room. He yells a ‘good-night’ as he crosses the hallway. His steps fade as he steps out and closes the main door.

_ “So, about Sett…”  _ she murmurs.  _ “Are you gonna be good on your promise and tell me, my sweet, darling brother?” _

Aphelios looks at her with disdain, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

She groans and rubs her hands down her face. If playing nice won’t work then— _ “Okay, smartass, tell me what’s going on.” _

He shrugs.  _ Don’t know what you mean,  _ he signs.

_ “Oh, what do I mean, indeed.”  _ Her scowl gets worse as she signs the words out of habit.  _ “Something happened when I was gone.” _

Aphelios shakes his head. He opens the bedroom door and his bag is already there waiting for him. He says nothing more as he picks it up and puts it atop the dresser.

_ “Aphelios,”  _ she says. He keeps ignoring her and folds his scarf, right as he places it inside with the rest of his belongings.  _ “Good goddess, it’s just so obvious.” _

A blush spreads on his cheeks.  _ Wrong, nothing happened. _

_ “I turn truly invisible when you two are in the same room!”  _ She crosses her arms over her chest.  _ “What does he call you now? ‘Phel’? What’s next? He might as well be calling you sweetheart for all I know. _ ”

It’s meant to be a half-joke. She’s not expecting to see his face turn red all the way to his ears. She looks at him, until he meets her eyes, he fumbles with his hands, trying to sign something, but in the end, Alune doesn’t need to see his response.

_ “He has.”  _ It’s not a question.  _ “He has! Oh, my—Aphelios!” _

He spins away from her scrutinizing gaze. He sits at the edge of the bed, pretending that taking his coat is way more interesting than this conversation.

“Now  _ you have to tell me,” _ Alune can’t hide the excitement of this unprecedented circumstance.  _ “How did you charm The Boss, hm? Was it an impromptu date? Shared something personal by accident?” _

_ Stop,  _ he says. It’s the embarrassment that makes him hesitant. He breathes in deeply before signing once more,  _ Too nosy. You are so inappropriate. _

_ “I’m not! How dare you.”  _ She scoffs.  _ “I’m just wondering if you guys did anything out of the ordinary, it’s not like I’m asking if you choked on it.” _

He’s silent. Another feeble pressure in her chest. It’s not hers obviously and she easily traces it back to the only source possible, who right now, is sitting while clenching his fists on his lap, avoiding her stare.

It dawns on her like a splash of cold water.  _ “You slept with him.” _

_ No!  _ The hand cuts through the air as he signs the word for her. 

_ “With  _ Sett?” She screams.

His face was more irritated than shy. He continues as he stands from the bed,  _ Nothing like that happened— _

Alune is gaping, mouth wide-open. She can’t hold back the howls of laughter that fill the room. Aphelios’ face is still red,  _ red _ —out of anger or shame, she can’t tell—and Alune literally laughs herself out of the real world.

The focus on their connection is broken and her projection goes back to the fortress’ peaceful territory. When she opens her eyes again, they’re full of tears. The dark sky seems more beautiful from this angle, she rubs a hand over her eyes as he falls down, the soft grass cushioning her fall.

She’s still in shock. “He really did that, I cannot believe him.”

Her arm feels warmer than usual. It’s uncomfortable enough that she raises it to her face to inspect it. Pulling the sleeve off reveals the cuts that now are healing by themselves. The remaining incisions on her clothing are also sealing without intervention. As odd as it seems, Alune has become part of this world whether she likes it or not. And this little stunt she pulled almost cost her life.

It wasn’t that much of a waste. She had seen things she needed answers for, but at this point, it’s obvious she could’ve done the normal thing and just ask him.

Like she did just now.

But she’ll have a lot of time to think about that.

As she returns to Aphelios side, he’s already expecting her; sitting on the bed with crossed arms. This brings her back again, and it’s a reminder that under all these layers, they’re still the  _ same. _

_ “Okay, I don’t understand what got you so worked up about it, anyway,”  _ she grins.  _ “Or is it that you actually like him?” _

_ Of course not,  _ he replies and his scowl deepens.  _ Not my type. _

_ “Oh,  _ please,  _ he’s hot as fuck,”  _ she flails her arms as if to exaggerate her frustration.  _ “He’s got it all: body, face, ass—I mean, if  _ I  _ wasn’t trapped in this spirit castle—” _

Something fires up in her chest and she stops immediately. A tiny flame, that still burns nonetheless. Aphelios still looks annoyed, a mild frown on his face, but overall nothing that exposes him.

_ “I was just kidding.”  _ She puts her hand in the shape of a heart.  _ “Sisters before misters, right?” _

Aphelios snorts. He covers his mouth and laughs. Even if this is just because the poison is wearing out—because she somehow twisted the Noctum’s connection with her magic—she can’t come to regret it. 

She had missed this.

“I’m so sorry, Phel, but laughing looks so ugly on you,” she says. Her brother reaches behind him and throws the first pillow he can grab at her.

She shrieks and covers her face. The pillow plops on the ground as it travels across her body. He’s still laughing, and she thinks, if only for tonight, Alune is not the Moon’s chosen seer.

_ “So,”  _ she clears her throat,  _ “Was he good? How long is it? Oh, wait—did  _ he  _ choke on it—” _ And her voice breaks in the middle of that sentence as another fit of laughter takes her over. __

The bed dips when he lays back down. He puts a pillow on his face and growls, Alune can’t get enough of making fun of him.

_ “From—from one to ten, how do you rate his _ — _ ” _ She wheezes again, unable to finish that sentence. He sits up and takes off the blanket as if to cover her with it.

When it doesn’t work he just keeps gesturing ‘stop, stop,  _ stop!’ _ over and over again, until his hands are sore of the many times he’s repeated that sign. Alune rolls over, finally calmed down.

_ You are disgusting,  _ he signs.

She does it as well, while still laughing.  _ You sure I’m the nasty one here? _

Aphelios crinkles his nose.  _ Always, _ he responds.

From years of knowing each other, Alune has been the one open about this kind of thing. She knows Aphelios is extremely reserved with his personal life, always dodging this type of conversation. Naturally, she finds some sick satisfaction from watching him suffer.

_ “Okay, fine, I’m done.”  _ She sits next to him, a genuine smile plastered on her face.  _ “I’m hurt, though, you didn’t even tell me you were into him.” _

Aphelios says nothing, his face slowly changing until his eyes are soft and gloomy. He uncrosses his arms and lays back on the bed, putting one of the pillows behind his head.

Alune feels something shifting in him, a feeling buried far and deep below where she can’t reach anymore.

_ Not important,  _ he says. 

He places his hands on his lap, eyes stuck to the ceiling. She wants to argue that, but she can’t without running into the same old dispute about their places in the world, their duty and responsibilities. Settling down is a fantasy, an unreachable dream that they can’t allow themselves to have. It’s the sacrifice they chose to take when they became the protectors of their people.

This change of atmosphere and the sadness he can’t mask with a poker face, tells her he knows it’s wrong too. Catching feelings for another is a privilege they can’t have. They are part of something bigger than themselves, shackled until they fulfill their destinies.

But Alune wasn’t heartless, less when it came to her brother. Right now they could have all the fun with it. Their devotion would take them anywhere, even when the temptation was so appetizing. So, just for tonight.

Just for  _ tonight. _

_ “It isn’t but,”  _ she sighs and lays next to her brother,  _ “we used to talk so much before… and now we never do.” _

Aphelios closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them again he twists his head towards Alune, and she can see the conflicting natures clashing.

_ “It’s always something about the mission, Diana, and the faith—let’s have a twins night again.”  _ She pouts.  _ “Please?” _

He breathes out with exhaustion, as if he had lost a battle.  _ Okay,  _ he finally decides.

Alune floats away with excitement while giggling.  _ “I’m all ears,”  _ she whispers.

_ It all happened here,  _ he signs, a wicked grin spreading on his face.

_ “Wait, what?”  _ Alune frowns.  _ “Here?” _

Aphelios nods and says,  _ In this same bed. _

_ “Eew, Phel! I was  _ not  _ asking about that!”  _ She jumps off from where she’s laying. With shut eyes and a shiver physically traveling down her spine, she wipes her clothes, as if they had touched the sheets for real.

She puts enough distance between them, watching in disbelief how he laughs at his own joke.

_ “Oh no, you’re gross now,”  _ she says.  _ “What has Sett done to you?” _

The edges of her vision are dull. Her good mood almost flies off the window, knowing she’s running out of time, but she pushes those worries aside. Her brother’s smile doesn’t disappear and the warm sensation matches his body language and his expression.

_ “Don’t tell me that’s it.”  _ She can’t hide the disappointment.

Thankfully, he shakes his head and properly sits up. The night is followed by the real tale. Even when it ends, they find other topics that branch out from their original conversation. Jokes about things they said or did. How Aphelios became fluent in Sett’s-ears-language and Alune had to cut him short on that one, just to make sure that he wouldn’t talk about it for the rest of their time together.

In the moment when their laughter is the only thing heard in the room, Alune feels like she’s not trapped in the Marus Omegnum, that her body isn’t made of magic and it’s just like their times back in their shared room at the Lunari Monastery.

Sitting on the bed, splitting a snack they stole from the village’s market, the one closer to the foot of the mountain. Patching each other up after training, or trying to memorize another Lunari passage for their prayers. It’s the conversations that came up while they did any of those things; the latest gossip, Aphelios ex-lover who’s trying to make him jealous by dating someone else; Their favorite classmate who was sent as a spy to one of the Ra’Horak temples; their math teacher losing a bet to another professor, rumor says that’s why he’s been wearing strange attires.

For the brief seconds Alune closes her eyes, she feels Aphelios careful fingers braiding her hair. They talk about everything, and they talk about nothing. Back when their disciplines started dividing them more frequently. Those nights before they had to split up again felt too short but they always enjoyed them. Was it in silence or talking their ears off, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they were together again.

Aphelios always fell asleep before her. Their beds weren’t to be shared, but Alune never had the heart to move to her own, she always ended up realizing that tomorrow might be the last time she’d see him. Sometimes, she’d kick his face trying to wake him up, then quickly pretending to be asleep. Aphelios only fell for that twice. The rest of the time, she always got kicked back.

On some other, more contemplative nights, she’d use the time to write him short notes and hide them in his uniform’s pockets. Sometimes it was a joke, or a light-hearted insult; sometimes just an angry face sticking its tongue out.

A measured breath leaves her lips as she opens her eyes again. The connection dwindles, she feels her brother’s energy separating from her as the seconds go by. He’s peacefully asleep next to her, unaware of the breach in their soul link. Unaware of what lays ahead.

Again, it’s better this way, isn’t it? Alune knows by now that whatever future awaits them is inevitable. There’s nothing she can do about it, a part of her laments not telling him about his visions. But she was scared about the things that would arise with that: the breaching of his privacy, the lack of trust.

It was better this way. The next time they’ll meet each other, this would only bring them closer, making them stronger together. Doing this was picking the right future—the right choice. 

They haven’t really changed in all this time, despite all the things they’ve gone through. How wonderful. This must be a dream.

As the world becomes muddier and the fortress takes her back, she giddily realizes: it’s  _ not. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to scream at me, I'm at twitter as [@rollosdesol](https://twitter.com/rollosdesol)
> 
> ty @ my beta for helping me with this :)


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